Left Unsupervised
by femmedefoi
Summary: "No one ever quite understood how Fred and Hermione got together. Ron was incensed, Harry was puzzled, even George, who saw the whole thing develop, was at a loss as to how exactly they came to be. But no one could deny that they worked surprisingly well together, nor could they ignore the obvious signs that the two of them were in love."
1. Pranking & Crying & Birthdays, Oh My!

AN: I own absolutely nothing except my own plot ideas.

* * *

George POV:

"C'mon Georgie, it's getting late! If we don't leave soon, Perce is going to come back from his rounds and bust us!" Fred's whisper carried harshly across the Gryffindor common room to where George sat near the fire, rummaging through his sack of supplies.

"I know that, you dimwit! We can't just run out into the corridor without our secret ingredient though, can we? I'm just double checking to make sure it fits in here."

"Well hurry up, it's nearly eleven!"

With a last look at the grandfather clock in the corner, George hastily shoved the flask into his bag and rushed out the door to meet his twin.

"Glad you could find it within your heart to meet me here," Fred said with a smirk, "What a shame it would've been to carry on this mission without you."

George glared. Just once, it would be nice to have _Fred_ be the responsible one of the two of them. Punching him lightly in the shoulder, George began walking towards the dungeons. "Shove off, Forge."

An hour later, clutching his side and wiping tears from his eyes, the two stumbled into the Gryffindor common room, intent on the post-prank run-down. George ran to the couch to warm himself- In their ( _Fred's_ ) haste to begin their prank, George had neglected to grab his jumper, now he was paying for it- and pulled a small scroll from his pocket, and summoned an errant quill off a table.

"Alright Freddie, by your count, how many Slytherins did we get out of their beds?" he questioned, ready to mark the tally. No response.

"Fred? You still there? Is everything alri-" George turned around from his position on the couch to see his brother with a peculiar look on his face, one that he last remembered seeing when Fred let Ginny fly with him on a broom and she fell off, and nearly snapped her ankle. He put his finger to his lips, and then pointed towards a corner of the common room that we often avoided: the "library".

Perhaps 'library' is a strong term, it's honestly more of a collection of books on opposing shelves that students have left behind year after year, many filled with notes, doodles, and not-so-flattering drawings of everyone's favorite Potions professor. Between the two sets of shelves, there was a rather large rectangular table, well-suited for projects that required collaboration. Fred and George had set foot in the school library precisely four times, therefore it should come as no surprise that they rarely frequented this corner, but this evening was different, it would appear.

Percy had finished his rounds nearly an hour ago now, and most students were long gone to bed, fast asleep with dreams of the next Quidditch match dancing through their minds, and yet...someone was there, a girl, it seemed. Her brown mass of hair was haphazardly tied back in some sort of a ponytail, and her head was inclined slightly forward to be in her hands. _Fallen asleep doing homework, what a shame. Bet they didn't realize that was a go-ahead whistle for being pranked._ It wasn't until he went to ask Fred for his opinion on charmed chewing gum in her hair that George noticed the shaking. Every few seconds, her whole body gave a monstrous shudder, as if she had forgotten how to breathe and every minute that she sat there, her ability diminished further. She was crying. Well, that certainly changed things.

"George, I need you to grab my satchel _very_ quietly," his brother whispered out of the corner of his mouth. George raised an eyebrow at that request but said nothing. He still wasn't quite sure who this mystery girl was, she seemed small -a first-year maybe?- and he was never particularly fond of approaching weepy women, so he passed the satchel over to his brother, and made a subconscious decision to let him handle this. George watched as Fred pulled a sheet of parchment out of the satchel, whispered a short phrase, and let the castle blueprints unfold onto the paper. His eyes grew wide as he identified their concealed companion. He mouthed it to George, and initially, all his brother could read from him was "hurt my knee" -confusing, as they hadn't done anything particularly taxing.

Suddenly the map was flying at him, and it was all George could to do catch it before it knocked something off a table and alerted their female friend to their presence. George glanced down at the map; Hermione Granger, of course. But why was she crying? He raised my eyebrows towards his twin, and from the look Fred sent back, he had as much of an idea as George did. After a series of gestures, George paled as he realized that Fred was planning to approach her. Catching the change in his brother's complexion, Fred gestured him upstairs, telling him to go on ahead, he'd be up in a moment after he'd talked with her. Y _ou sure?_ George asked with his eyes. _Yes, of course, now go!_

Not one to question him further (not now at least), George headed up the stairs to the Boys' dormitories and promptly fell into bed, his body aching for sleep, but his mind willing him to stay awake until his brother returned.

Half an hour later, Fred stumbled into the room, shut the door and leaned against it, a curious expression on his face. George whispered his name and he started, clearly having assumed that everyone would be asleep.

Fred turned, his hands against the door for a moment, before facing his brother again. "That one's going to be a handful for us, Georgie. I can feel it in my bones."

Beyond exhausted from their late night escapade, George nodded half-heartedly and mumbled something about saving this conversation for the morning before rolling over into his sheets, all thoughts of interrogating his twin forgotten.

* * *

Fred POV:

Fred walked back into the common room with George, fully prepared to discuss the logistics of their prank. 34 Slytherins running out of the dungeons and shrieking as brightly colored powder appeared to infiltrate their living areas, what a sight!

As they moved towards the fireplace, Fred heard a sniff and froze. There, in the twins' least favorite corner of the common room, was a girl, sitting with her head in her hands, and her body vibrating with deep sobs every few seconds.

"Alright Freddie, by your count, how many Slytherins did we get out of their beds?" George attempted to ask him. He, however, was transfixed by this girl. She couldn't have been more than 12 years old, a second-year at best. Those were harsh cries for an underclassman. As Fred wondered who it might be, he heard George begin to ask him again and then freeze mid-question when he saw his brother halted. Fred put his finger to his lips and gestured towards the corner, watched as the wheels turned in his twin's mind, and waited until he saw the moment that it all clicked for him.

"George, I need you to grab my satchel _very_ quietly," he whispered as best he could out of the side of his mouth. A look of confusion flit across George's face, but he did as asked, and handed Fred the bag, which held, among other things, a bottle of Butterbeer, some Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, and approximately twelve crumpled up pieces of parchment with caricatures of various professors. Fred rummaged around until his fingers brushed the worn piece of parchment that he was looking for.

Pulling it out, he whispered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and watched as ink began to bleed onto the surface, highlighting the layout of Hogwarts. He shifted his gaze to the Gryffindor common room, read the name of their unknown friend, and felt his eyes grow wide at the name. _Hermione Granger_.

Fred attempted to mouth the name to his brother, but he failed to put together the syllables. Instead, Fred sent the map flying towards his head. He saw George examine the map, his eyes falling on the name of the girl who sat before them, and suddenly jerk his head up to look at his twin nervously. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask if Fred knew why she was in tears. _Of course not, I've got no clue!_ Fred gestured to himself, then walking with two fingers, then talking, then pointed towards Hermione. George paled, always one to avoid emotional moments, if possible. Fred motioned towards the staircase, telling his brother to go on ahead, he'd surely be up in a minute or two. George raised his eyebrow as if to ask Fred's certainty, and Fred waved him forward, _Yes, of course, now go!_

 _Now what?_ Fred asked himself. _You barely know this girl, what are you going to do?_ He was right. They were barely a month into the school year, he barely knew any of the first years, except for Harry Potter, of course. And Ron. It's possible he bumped into her on the platform, or maybe the train, but still...That didn't warrant any attempts at comfort. But here he was, committed to being a good person, if only because he knew George was sitting in his bed upstairs just waiting to grill him on the conversation he was about to have.

"C'mon now, eleven is a rough year, but it couldn't possibly be _that_ dreadful," the red-head joked, hoping that his attempt at humor would give her the inclination to speak to him, or at least to smile. _Merlin_ , Fred thought, _I can't deal with weepy girls._

She raised her head halfway, only enough to look into the window at her reflection, exasperated, and mutter something about pre-pubescence before lowering it back onto her hands.

"I hate to be this way, but I've no idea what you've just said, and there isn't quite room for me to join you. Care to turn around and be witness to the most dashing ginger you've ever seen?" Fred smirked at that line, even though she couldn't see him, and then cringed a bit. _Typical. You're trying to comfort the girl, not make her swoon, you idiot!_ These opinions were sounding more and more like they were being voiced by his twin, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Fred looked up and the girl was staring at him oddly, still sniffling, but looking much more capable of her respiratory functions than she had upon George and his arrival.

"Fred or George?" she questioned.

"What does it matter, really? Isn't it enough to know that I'm the more handsome between us?"

She sighed, and rubbed her temples with her fingertips, the sniffling slowing down, but still irritating, evidently.

"I promise I'm not here to prank you," Fred offered. "I only meant to see if you were alright. It's not every day that you see firsties crying in the common room unless Snape's been really awful. He hasn't hexed you or anything, has he?"

"No, of course not! He's a professor, why would he ever…" she trailed off, "that was a joke, wasn't it?"

"It was meant to be. Apparently, it was rubbish, based on your reaction, though."

"I'm dreadfully sorry, I just..I...I'm a bit out of sorts right now. That's not to say that normally I would've laughed at the joke either, to be perfectly honest, I probably would've missed the humor altogether, but now I'm rambling and making you uncomfortable and I'll just be leaving now." She rotated herself towards the desk and began gathering her materials.

"Granger, wait," Fred called out. She froze for a moment, and then turned back to face him, face flushed, nose red, and eyes puffy from the still-unexplained crying. "I didn't mean to poke fun at you like that-really I didn't!" he countered as she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "All I wanted was to make sure you were alright, honestly. I didn't mean to make you feel any worse than you already did-I just wanted to know why you were upset. It's my duty as Head Prankster of Hogwarts to make sure that all students are served smiles and laughs when they need them most."

Hermione looked at him with tear filled eyes, and in a split second, he knew what was coming. The tears came back with a vengeance, and began to make their way down her face again; in apparent discomfort with the situation, she hoisted her legs onto the stool and buried her face in her knees. Sighing, and cursing the entire female first-year population, Fred approached her slowly, and reached out to touch her knee.

"Granger...Hermione?" he paused, unsure about where to go from here. "What's the matter?"

"Why do you care? Why," she hiccuped, "should I even bother to tell you? _You're_ Ronald's older brother, you'll just pass on everything I say to him and give him more ammunition!"

The clock chimed and Fred winced. It was getting late, and he wasn't sure he could carry on this conversation for very long if she fought him.

"Granger, I'm wounded that you think so little of me! When a friend is crying, it is absolutely despicable to neglect to help them. Besides, my brother's a prat, he doesn't need my help putting his foot in his mouth. Come on, you know you'll feel better if you get it out." Fred reasoned.

"I suppose you're right...It's just…" she hiccuped again, "I don't have any friends. Every hates me because I study and I know the material, but I only did that because I knew nothing about this world before July, when I got my letter, and I didn't want to be _eons_ behind everyone else here who grew up knowing everything about magic, but they hate me anyway, and everyone says I'm a know-it-all and a nightmare and I...I…" she paused again, angrily wiping tears from her cheeks. "I want to go home. I'd give up magic if it meant I wouldn't be hated like this." She took a breath to compose herself and continued. "Your brother sits next to me during the lessons and mutters under his breath about what a terror I am, and why no one would want to be friends with me and to make it all worse everyoneforgotmybirthday," she rattled out in one breath.

"What was that last part there?"

"Everyone forgot my birthday," she said in a small voice. "It's not that I was expecting much, not really anything except for maybe a head-nod or something trivial, but instead it seemed like Harry and Ronald and Lavender and Parvati-well, I suppose not Harry, he's just always around so I always tack him on with Ron- went out of their way to make the day miserable." She sniffled again, and muttered something about stupid girls and crying at her party if she wanted to.

"Did you get an owl from your parents, at all? Surely they didn't forget about your birthday!"

"They're muggles, they don't know how to use the owl-post. They were more taken aback than I was about the prospect of an entire world that's been operating under their noses… So no, I didn't. I told you, there was nothing. Merlin, this is nothing! All of this is pointless and you don't need to sit here and listen to me ramble about how miserable I am right now. If I were you, I would've walked right past me with my nose up, gloating about that prank you pulled on the Slytherins, and not given me a second glance, and I _certainly_ wouldn't have stuck around to listen to a twelve-year-old complain about her life. What are you still doing here, anyhow? I would've thought you'd run off by now."

Fred swallowed, a bit nervously. He really was never the best with handling emotional people, but here he was, stepping up to bat.

"I thought that maybe tonight would be a good night to celebrate your birthday. When was it originally?" He heard himself say, not fully committed to this idea, but offering it forward regardless.

"September 19th. But how do you plan to-" Fred cut her off, quickly jumping up from his crouched position in front of her, and spinning in a circle.

"No more words from you, just follow me and tonight, October 7th, will become your newest and favoritest holiday, _Birthday II_!"

She chuckled from behind him. _Thank Merlin she's laughing, I don't know if I could've taken another round of tears._

"Oi, you over there! What's so funny?"

"It's just that it's not the seventh anymore- the clock rang out for midnight a while ago- it's the eighth now," she said, blushing into her hands.

"Well then, M'lady, I suppose we'll have to make sure that the October-iest day in October doesn't go to waste, now won't we? Come along!" He moved towards the entrance to the common room and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the unmistakable scratching of the stool against the floor, and then the light footsteps of his companion.

"Uh Fred?" she ventured quietly from behind him, as he opened the door.

"Yes, Miss Hermione of the Grangers?"

"Where exactly are we going?"

"That, mademoiselle, is my surprise fo-hold on! You called me Fred! How did you know?"

With that, they made their way down to the kitchens for some cauldron cakes and a well-deserved round of butterbeer, in celebration of Birthday II, England's newest holiday.

Luckily for them both, no one was patrolling the corridors during our trek there or back. Even luckier, Hermione had stopped crying, and instead was engaging Fred in a heated debate about House Elves for the entire duration of the journey back.

He shook his head and chuckled as they re-entered the common room.

"It would appear that my work here is done. Lady Granger, is there any more that I can do to assist you this fine evening...err morning?"

She blushed and shook her head, making her way towards the 'library' to gather her things.

"Kind sir, I do believe you've done plenty of charitable work this fine day," she said while returning to face the Girls' dormitories and Fred, who stood in the center of the common room. "Please, retire to your sleeping quarters to rest, and do inform me if there is ever a way to repay you for this debt."

She curtsied. He bowed. Fred moved to make her way back to the dormitories easier, as she walked past. She reached the top of the stairs, paused for a moment, then placed her bag down and raced down the steps to stand in front of hime.

"Fred?"

"Yes, Granger?"

She paused, debating something for a moment, before whispering "Thank you" and ascending on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Anytime," he muttered weakly, as she climbed the stairs yet again, and disappeared behind the dormitory door with a slight wave. "Anytime at all."

* * *

Moments later, Fred made his way up to his room, entered quietly, and rested with his back against the door, working through what just happened.

He heard his name and jumped, startled out of his reverie by his brother. _Merlin, if he sees the look on my face, I'll be dead for sure!_ Fred turned to face the door for a moment to clear his head, and to make his face unreadable for his twin, drumming his fingers on the door frame before turning around.

"That one's going to be a handful for us, Georgie. I can feel it in my bones."

George muttered something about finishing this conversation tomorrow as Fred headed over to his trunk, put on pajamas and climbed into bed, content to dream about bushy-haired twelve-year-olds, house elves, and butterbeer scented kisses.

* * *

a/n: Welcome to Left Unsupervised- let me know what you think in the reviews!

Next Time on Left Unsupervised: Ron is a jerk, Hermione is reading, Fred gets into a scintillating discussion about butterbeer


	2. Drinks and Discussions

A/N: Let me know how I'm doing in the reviews, and as always, I own nothing.

* * *

Fred didn't see Hermione very much for the next few weeks, but he couldn't stop thinking about their conversation that night.

" _I'd give up magic if it meant I wouldn't be hated like this,"_ she had said.

 _Give up magic? I can't even imagine. What would it be like to be so fully immersed in another world and then just give that up? Particularly for someone so fond of learning and discovering new things, it would have to be miserable, knowing that there's so much more out there that you just_ _ **can't**_ _learn about. Merlin, she must've been more upset than I realized._

Shaking his head, he turned back to his breakfast, only to have his brother shoot him a strange look before starting their morning conversation.

"Oh twin of mine," Fred sang out, in an attempt to catch his brother's eye. "I do believe our ickle Ronnie-kins has talked himself into quite a mess with that Granger girl."

Ronald, oblivious as usual, was sitting three seats down from Fred, with Neville and Hermione between the two siblings. Hermione appeared to be tense, as if she had recently taken a beating. Fred supposed she probably had, just not a physical one.

"I'd say, Freddie! In fact, I believe I could find it in my heart to dig up some colorful adjectives to describe his behavior for Mum, don't you?" George joked, as he saw Hermione begin to color under the glance of casual onlookers. "Shall we list them in alphabetical or chronological order?"

"Numerical."

"Ah, simply the best. Boorish!"

"Pig-headed."

"Asanine."

"Idiotic."

"Barbaric."

"Crude!"

"Insulting."

"Brutish."

"Oi, what are you two going on about down there?" Ron called down the table, pieces of egg falling from his over-stuffed mouth as he leaned forward to face the twins.

"Just the various qualifiers we'll use to write Mum about your behavior, Ronnie," George offered. "We were about to begin the debate on how they should be organized for the letter, and whether or not she'll keep the same format when she yells them back to you in her howler. Care to venture a wager?"

Face and ears flushing, Ron sat back down in his seat and fumed quietly for a few moments. He wasn't trying to be mean, honestly, he was just irritated by this girl who walked in acting like she knew everything about everything (even though she clearly did) and was taking the fun out of his first year. He muttered something to Harry about idiot twin brothers and then left to grab his satchel from the common room.

Hermione, on the other hand, had paled considerably throughout the conversation, and now looked as if she may be sick. Fred glanced at her worriedly, and decided she needed a mood-booster. Dropping his fork loudly, he dramatically bent down to grab it off the floor while tucking an object wrapped in a spare piece of parchment into Hermione's hand.

Hands shaking, she reached into her sack to 'look for her schedule', and unfolded the parchment to find a small sugar quill lying within the parchment, which had a message reading:

"m'lady,

Hope you enjoy sugar quills,

meet me at nine in the common room tonight.

-your dashingly handsome ginger friend"

A small smile flitted across her lips before she could restrain herself from doing so. She lightly placed the sugar quill on top of her books, and gently folded the parchment and placed it in her pocket. She rose from her seat, some color having returned to her face and headed off towards the library, looking to no one in particular as she left.

Fred, meanwhile, was watching the event play out before him, and felt his stomach flip a bit when she smiled. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he turned back towards food before anyone could catch him watching her. Now all he had to do was wait until the evening.

* * *

"I just don't understand how you guys pull it off every time," Lee Jordan was saying as he and the twins entered the common room just past 8:30, after Gryffindor's quidditch practice had been cancelled due to weather.

"What can we say-" Fred started.

"-We're brilliant!" George finished. "We know our skillsets,"

"-and we play to them well," said Fred as he plopped himself down on the couch in front of the fire.

"Merlin, it hasn't been this miserable outside since that storm our first year where all the fires went out in the common rooms," Fred remarked as he began pulling off layers of his uniform. "At least Wood had the sense to cancel practice for once. I could've sworn I saw him groan when he saw the lightning."

George chuckled and began discussing the twins' latest prank Transfiguration with Lee, who had been at the bathroom for its occurrence.

"...and McGonagall just rolled her eyes and kept on teaching, as if she hadn't seen anything. My dragon was hopping all over our side of the room, and Fred's was flying in circles around Adrian Pucey's desk, and it took his dragon setting the corner of one of Pucey's parchments on fire for Minnie to do anything about it, and even then, it wasn't much. I think she finally found it in herself to like us, what do you think, Freddie?"

Fred, who had been absentmindedly thinking about his plans for the evening, roused from his thoughts to respond "What? Oh yeah, rightly so, I 'spect. It's only been three years of us, you'd think she'd have found a heart for our entertaining natures sooner."

George looked at his brother curiously while the unsuspecting object of his attention turned back towards the fire, only to stand up with a small sigh and announce he was off to the showers.

Fred shrugged his shoulders and headed up the stairs to toss his uniform onto his bed. 8:45, _Merlin I'm late. Better hurry with that shower then._

* * *

15 Minutes later saw Hermione Granger sitting primly on one of the armchairs nearest the fire, her ankles crossed like a proper lady, a book on her lap, and the fingers of her left hand twirling something delicately between them. She looked around to fix her gaze on the clock and heard the chimes ring out for nine. She sighed and turned back to her book. _I don't know why I thought he would actually show up, this is probably all an elaborate setup for some practical joke the twins are planni-_

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Dame Granger sitting upon that chair?" Hermione's eyes shot up to meet Fred's eyes, traces of embarrassment appearing on her face at the distrustful thoughts she had harbored just moments before.

She closed her book and set it upon a table, trying to hide the color that had risen to her cheeks. After receiving no response, Fred approached her quietly, hoping to lighten the mood. _Merlin, I hope she's not close to tears again. That'd be twice that I found her in this condition in a fortnight._ He advanced towards the chair until he reached the sofa and, unceremoniously throwing himself onto it, shook his hair wildly in an attempt at drying it.

"What do you have there, Granger?" he gestured towards her book.

"What am I reading, you mean?" He nodded. "It's called _Matilda_. It's about a regular girl who discovers she has magic powers and uses them to improve both her life and the lives of the others."

"Sounds like something you'd enjoy. I never really had the opportunity to read any muggle books growing up, but I suppose they're just as good as wizarding ones- would you agree?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation light before they dived into the evening's plans.

"Some of them are utter rubbish, honestly. I have no desire to read novels about 'whirlwind romances' and 'crimes of passion'. I generally prefer classics, like Jane Austen and Shakespeare and such, but my mother gave me this one before I got on the Hogwarts Express because she said she thought I might appreciate being able to empathize with the protagonist."

"Do you?"

"Well… In some ways yes, I suppose I do. I mean it was quite a shock to discover that I could perform magic, and I did sometimes feel like everyone I grew up with thought I was strange, but at the same time, Matilda is very much a child, one who just wants to be happy, and… well, I know I'm young, but I'd like to think that I'm mature for my age and not just some carefree adolescent lollygagging through life," she claimed, all the while fingering what appeared to be a necklace chain in her left hand. "So yes, but no."

"You like to think, don't you?" Fred asked with a small grin on his face as he watched her blush. He knew she did- in the three weeks since their last meeting, he had been privy to rumors about her insatiable desire for knowledge and discovery. An image of this little girl with thick, curly hair shooting her hand up in every course made him smile wider. "What do you _think_ about heading down to the kitchens for a snack and a chat, then?"

Hermione paused. _Is this what having a brother is like? Having someone to confide in and go on adventures with? Feeling like I belong somewhere?_ She dropped her gaze to the ring hanging on the necklace chain resting in her hand. _You can't live in the past forever. Your days as Hermione Granger, a muggle young lady from Hampstead are over. You're Hermione Granger, witch now. Go do the things you wouldn't have done in the past. Explore._

"Granger?" Pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Fred asking after her again, she turned to face him.

"I think I'd rather like that."

* * *

Once they arrived in the kitchens, Fred got them both a mug for butterbeer and was about to call for one of the house elves when he realized he never asked the girl sitting next to him what she had wanted.

"Erm…Granger?" he offered. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you like butterbeer?"

She chuckled. "Well the first time I had it was the last time you and I were here. We don't have a butterbeer in the muggle world. We have fizzy drinks- do you have those here?" Fred shook his head. "Oh they're marvelous! I've been meaning to ask my parents to owl me a journal I had forgotten, I'll have them send along a can or two for you to try! Let's see… Well, they're these sugary drinks, sort of like butterbeer, but there are bubbles that float around in them and make them fizz all the way down your throat when you drink them. They come in all sorts of flavors, berry and citrus and cola, like candies! Only in beverage form with lots of bubbles."

As she described them, she saw Fred's eyes grow wide and resolved to ask her parents to send a few cans of Slice in her next letter to them.

"I take it you've taught your parents how the owl-post works then?" he smiled good-naturedly at her.

"All I really needed to do was figure it out myself. I sent them a small sack a few weeks ago with enough sickles to last them for the year and then wrote them a short letter explaining how it worked. So far they've only sent two letters, but they're catching on, I can tell." She smiled at the counter and then turned to face him. "In answer to your earlier question though, I _do_ like butterbeer. It's got quite a rich flavor to it, it tastes warm even when it's chilled...It tastes safe and comfortable and cozy."

Fred's eyes lit up with laughter as he summoned a house elf and asked for two bottles. "I'm glad you like it. I was hoping there were at least some aspects of being a witch that you enjoy."

His face turned serious for a minute as he poured the butterbeer into the mugs. "Granger, I know I've got a bit of a reputation around here for being a prankster, but-" he was cut off by Hermione choking a laugh into her butterbeer.

"A _bit_ of a reputation? That's all? You're not one to under-exaggerate yourself, Fred," she giggled a bit, and Fred saw some of the tension from her shoulders relax.

"Well, no, but I thought this conversation might be more important than my reputation." He paused, unsure of how to proceed. _Do I tell her that I see her like a sister and want to protect her? I mean, that's true...kind of. There's definitely something more there too. I could just be having a momentary crush, I doubt I full on fancy her. No, sister is safest. Treat her like Ginny-well, not_ quite _like Ginny._

"I just wanted you to know that regardless of what people say about George and me, we're good guys, and if you ever need anything, we'd have your back. I know that it's only been a little over a month, but I see you like a sister, and I'll always be here for you to talk to and…I just wanted you to know that," he finished lamely.

Hermione had paled a bit at the beginning of his statement, but as Fred continued, she had felt a warmth in her stomach that had nothing to do with butterbeer. _I've never had anyone say anything so kind- what did I do to deserve this?_ She sat silently for a few minutes, and Fred was beginning to worry that he had said something to offend her. Her head was down, her face drawn and her eyes were staring aimlessly at the swirling drink in front of her.

"Granger? Hermione?" he tentatively spoke, hoping she would lift her head to meet his eyes.

She did, and they were glistening with unshed tears. Almost immediately, Fred moved to approach her and try and provide some sort of comfort, but as he got closer, she waved him off and wiped her eyes, as if to brush off the tears that had yet to fall.

"No no, it's fine Fred. Nothing's wrong, it's just… I'm an only child." She finally murmured. He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I've always grown up alone. When I was six or so, my mother was pregnant with another child, but she had a miscarriage around the 5th month and was devastated. We found out later that something had gone wrong and if she had carried the baby to term, she could've died. After that, they decided they wouldn't risk it- which I completely and wholeheartedly understand- but that meant I was alone. I was...a precocious child, and I didn't have many friends-as you can tell, not much has changed- and I was always jealous of my friends who had siblings, because even if they fought and pretended to hate each other, there was always _someone._ There was someone to defend them at school, or to be on their side in arguments with their parents. I envied them so much, and here you are just offering that up to me, as if it means nothing for you to give it to me. I'm not sure I've ever felt so loved."

Hermione took a long sip of her butterbeer and raised her eyes to meet his again, cerulean meeting chocolate in a battle for dominance. Because of this, she saw the smile in his eyes before it had reached the rest of his face.

"Hermione, I've got six siblings, I'm used to it. That's not to say it means _nothing_ , it certainly means something to me, and clearly it means something to you. I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt -especially not by the particular brand of idiot that is my little brother. You need a friend, and I want to be one. It's that simple," he stated with a grin.

With a hurried shove of her mug to the side, and an exclamation of "Oh Fred!" Hermione had suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug.

 _I suppose I did alright on this one, didn't I? Mum would be proud, she always did underestimate me._

"So how do you feel about having these late night escapades become a routine?" Fred ventured with a smile. "On the first and fourth Tuesdays of every month, we can make our way down here and recap what's been going on- ah, but first, I should set a rule: no telling me about Sir Greasiness, I have no desire to have Snape invading my dreams."

Hermione laughed, a full, unreserved laugh, and Fred found himself inexplicably happier than he had been moments earlier. As she doubled over at the thought of Snape making appearances in Fred's dreams, she heard him say: "I suppose I'll take that as a yes then?"

When they returned to their dorms that evening, both Hermione and Fred found themselves visited by a comfortable warmth in their chest, inexplicable to anyone else but them.

* * *

a/n: Hope you liking chapter two! I had a load of fun writing this one. Let me know what you think in the reviews!

Next Time on Left Unsupervised: Trolls, Twins, and Triage (okay maybe not so much triage, but it sounded nice anyway)


	3. Troll! In the Dungeon!

a/n: Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I'm glad to hear you guys are enjoying the story so far- keep leaving reviews and letting me know how I'm doing!

* * *

Two days later, Fred was hungrily devouring the last of his dinner when he noticed that Hermione hadn't joined the rest of Gryffindor table for the meal.

"Oi! Ron!"

His youngest brother looked up in mild surprise that Fred had anything to say to him.

"What do you want Fred?" he muttered with his mouth full.

"What did you say to Hermione, brother dearest of mine?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes at his oblivious brother.

"I didn't say anything to her, I swear." He turned to Harry, attempted (and failed) to lower his voice, and added, "That's not to say I didn't say anything _about_ her."

Harry shook his head. As much as he valued Ron as a friend, he had a lot of growing up to do.

Fred, meanwhile, had heard both halves of the comment and felt his face flush with anger towards his brother. He was turning to George, about to inform his twin that he was going to find Hermione, when suddenly the doors to the Great Hall burst open and their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor scrambled in.

"T-troll! Troll in the dungeon!"

Fred exchanged a look with George that clearly said _that wasn't one of our pranks was it?_ George shook his head and Fred felt his heart rate approach normality before he realized that Hermione still wasn't in the Great Hall with them.

"George! I have to find Hermione and tell her- she doesn't know, she could get hurt!" George nodded and Fred stood to exit the Great Hall as Quirrell collapsed in between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Amidst screams from his fellow students, he made his way towards the doorway but was stopped by the voice of Professor Dumbledore announcing that Prefects would lead their students back to the common rooms.

Unbeknownst to Fred, his youngest brother and the boy-who-lived had come to the same conclusion. As Fred sighed and returned to the table, the two first years ran to find their fellow Gryffindor. Fred sat down with a defeated look on his face, and George fixed him with a disbelieving stare.

"You're giving up that easily, Freddie? She's our friend, we owe it to her, don't you think? C'mon, you and I can split up- you distract Perce, and I'll break off and check the library, then you can check the commons and cover for me. We'll find her, don't worry." George encouraged his twin.

Fred nodded along absentmindedly and then fell into the line of Gryffindors being led by Percy. As his brother assimilated into the crowd, George snuck off towards the library, intent on finding Hermione.

* * *

"C'mon Ron, didn't Parvati tell you earlier that Hermione's been crying in the bathroom all morning? That's probably where she is -we need to go find her and let her know about the troll, and _you_ need to apologize to her." Harry told his friend.

"Why should I apologize, Harry? She's the one who's a menace!"

Ignoring Ron's protests, Harry ran towards the Girl's bathrooms and then stopped suddenly at the door.

"What's the matter Har-" As he ran into Harry's unmoving person, Ron stopped, and then looked at the scene before him.

Hermione stood, slightly wilted, in front of the first stall of the bathroom, wiping tears from her eyes, not looking up and thus not seeing the imminent threat. She shook her head, presumably giving herself a mental pep talk, and then froze. A mountain troll, probably 12 feet tall, stood before her, with a club in its hand and a vacant expression on its face. _I've read about these,_ she thought _, there's no way I'd be able to take it on myself._ She tried to move quietly back into the stall without it noticing her, but to no avail. Nearly as soon as she closed the door, the troll swung its club towards the stall, causing wooden debris to fall across her.

"Hermione, MOVE!" she heard and struggled to crawl under the division to the next stall before the troll swung again. She peered out from under what was left of the wooden door to see Harry and Ron standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Help me!" she shouted as the troll advanced yet again. Suddenly the troll was thrown off by a weight on its head, and not pausing to identify what the distraction was, Hermione ran to hide beneath the ceramic sinks. She took a moment's breath and then screamed again as the troll struck the sink in front of her and smashed it to the ground.

"Swish and flick! Swish and flick!" she called out to Ron, who, up until this point, had neglected to do much of anything in the rescue effort.

She held her breath as he successfully performed the levitation charm with a smug thought of _I_ _ **told**_ _you that was you were supposed to pronounce it_. The troll's club hovered above its head for a moment before promptly dropping, a motion which both released Harry from its grasp, and knocked the beast unconscious. Harry stood up and grabbed his wand out of the troll's nose with a comment of "Eecch troll bogies," before wiping it off and walking over to Hermione to lend her a hand in getting out from beneath the sinks.

Suddenly, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell rushed into the room with gasps, surveying the damage before them momentarily before turning to the two boys.

"Explain. Now." Professor McGonagall directed her question at the boys, and for a split second Hermione waited for them to explain, before rationalizing that their explanation would likely result in an undeserved punishment, after all, they _did_ save her life.

"It was _my_ fault professor," Hermione spoke up. "I've read about trolls, and well… I thought I could handle it myself. If Ron and Harry hadn't shown up... I'd probably be dead."

McGonagall looked flabbergasted at this admission, Snape disbelieving, while Ron and Harry's jaws had both fallen open at her statement.

"Very well, five points from Gryffindor for your _serious_ lack of judgment. You two, however, should be quite pleased with yourselves," she said as she turned to the boys, "Not many first years can say they faced a fully grown Mountain Troll and lived to tell the tale. Five points for each of you. Now off to the common rooms, go, all of you!"

Harry and Ron scampered out quickly and lingered at the corner to meet Hermione. When she approached, Harry elbowed Ron, and the three first-years began walking back toward the common room, Hermione in between the two boys.

"Hermione, uh, thanks for that." Ron stammered. "I know I've been a right git to you, and well… I'm sorry 'bout that, but would you maybe consider us being friends as an option?"

Hermione blushed and nodded. "Thank you, both of you, for saving me. I wasn't lying when I told McGonagall that I would've been dead without you." She stopped for a moment and turned back around.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned as the girl began walking in the opposite direction of Gryffindor tower. "Where are you going?"

"I left my bookbag in an empty classroom by the bathrooms, I'll just be 'round to grab it and then I'll head up to the common room."

"If you say so," Harry remarked, slightly wary of her answer, after all, she had been crying in the bathroom all morning. "Just be careful, 'right?"

"I will be." She said as she headed back towards the bathrooms. The two boys looked at her for a moment before they started back towards the common room, Ron remarking along the way that it had been "Positively wicked!"

* * *

George was almost to the library when he heard a crashing noise from behind him, and turned around. As he rushed down the hall, he saw a mop of black hair and a flash of red turn into what appeared to be the Girl's bathroom and paused for a moment before deciding to hide behind a statue and monitor what was going on.

He climbed up behind a bust of Phillipus von Hohenheim, put up a silencing spell so he could go undetected, and observed from across the corridor.

A feminine scream pierced the silence and George instinctively moved towards the bathroom in a rush to aid the girl who has become a sister to him. Then, one of the boys (Harry, he presumed) yelled her name and then a crashing sound echoed throughout the hall. George froze for a moment before hearing Hermione scream out again for help. A few seconds passed and he heard more crashes before Hermione interjected the cacophony with,

"Swish and flick! Swish and flick!"

 _A levitation charm? What in Merlin's name is going on in there?_ George wondered as he approached the bathroom entrance. A colossal 'thud' was heard, and George took a few steps back, shaken by the reverberations of the heavy weight. Hearing Professors approaching, he quickly returned to his hiding spot before risking another bout of detention.

As he re-camouflaged himself to his surroundings, his ears picked up the heightened screeches of the Gryffindor head of house. _A mountain troll? Ickle Ronniekins faced one down? Fred'll never believe it,_ _ **never**_ _. And… it was Hermione's idea? That just doesn't seem right. From what Fred's told me about their late night kitchen runs, she's not one to jump into reckless situations like that. I assume they all made it out relatively unscathed, although it sounds like Hermione was in there for a bit before the boys showed, maybe I should check up on her._

George waited for the Professors to dismiss the students. Ron and Harry exited first and waited for a moment before Hermione also appeared. They were walking towards the common area, engaged in seemingly light conversation, before Hermione turned towards the bathroom, and hall where George was hidden. Calling out some excuse about a book bag, she hurried back down the corridor.

 _It's now or never Georgie. Here goes nothing._

"Granger!" The girl in question started, clearly not expecting anyone else to be around.

"Oh, it's you, George. I thought Harry and Ron had followed me back here or something… Erm...What exactly are you doing here?" she swallowed, half expecting to discover that she was about to step into one of his and Fred's pranks.

"Looking for you, in fact." Her eyes widened. "Yes indeed, Freddie and I noticed you weren't in the Great Hall for dinner, so we decided to split up and find you when we heard about the troll, but it would appear you took care of that one yourself." He smirked, and he saw her face pale.

"Are you alright?" he stopped in his tracks and put his hands on her shoulders while scanning for injuries.

"George, I'm fine… I mean, my wrist is a bit sore, but I just feel bad about losing us house points. I've never done something like that before. I've always been one to follow the rules and I've just...never done that." she stammered.

"I kind of figured as much, Hermione. I also don't believe for a second that you went off after that troll by yourself. How 'bout you explain to me while we walk over to Madame Pomfrey and get your wrist looked at?"

Hermione nodded, and they headed off towards the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Fred was anxiously pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace when his brother and Hermione walked into the common room, both with rather solemn looks on their faces. He did his best to suppress a spark of jealousy when he saw his brother's arm slung casually around Hermione's shoulders, but George seemed to have caught his eye before he could drop the expression.

"Thank Merlin you're okay! I was so worried about you 'Mione," George scoffed, " You too, Georgie, but you being out was a part of the plan."

A small smile graced Hermione's face. "Mione?" she offered.

"Do you not like it? I figured it was more melodious than 'Herms' or 'Ione' but if it makes you uncomfortable, I can go back to calling you Granger." He murmured.

Her smile grew as she shook her head no, "I've never had a good nickname before. I like it."

George watched the exchange silently and decided that was his cue to head up to bed.

"Night Forge, Night ' _Mione_. See you at breakfast tomorrow," he called over his shoulder as he made his way up to the third-year dormitories.

"Ron and Harry got back ages ago, they told me they fought off a troll in the bathroom while you were there? Are you alright?" Fred inquired, turning back to face Hermione.

"I suppose so. I fell pretty hard on my wrist, but George and I went to Madame Pomfrey before coming back here, she gave me a potion and it feels much better now. I was pretty scared though. I thought I was in there all by myself and it was going to kill me." she stammered out.

Fred wrapped her in a hug and buried his face into the top of her head. "Well, I'm glad Harry and Ron happened to find you. I told you they'd come around, didn't I? Now you've got yourself some new friends, and a wicked story to tell, don't you?"

She pulled back, with a slight grin on her face. "I suppose I do, don't I?"

He nodded enthusiastically and attempted to pantomime the actions in the bathroom, failing miserably as he hadn't been present for the incident, and making Hermione laugh so hard that tears began rolling down her cheeks. Seeing this, he halted his demonstration to take dramatic bows, only to notice Hermione's yawns when he stood upright.

"You look tired, m'lady. How do you feel about a light, say, eight-to-ten-hour nap, commencing within the next 45 minutes?"

She giggled and nodded her head as he gently grabbed her shoulders to guide her towards the staircase to the Girls' Dormitories. She started up the steps, then turned around and ran back down to wrap Fred in a tight hug.

"Thanks for waiting up for me, Fred. It means the world to me."

"Of course, 'Mione. That's what friends do. I wouldn't have gone up to bed without knowing you were safe."

She beamed at this. "Good night, Fred. Happy Dreams."

"You too."

And happy dreams they both would have.

* * *

a/n: I apologize that this wasn't up as quickly as chapter 2 was, but to be fair, I'm not sure if I'll be able to update that quickly all the time.

Hope you guys have been enjoying this so far; let me know how I'm doing in the reviews!

Also, if you're looking for more Fremione stories, I just penned a short and sweet little one-shot called "A Muggy Morning in Manchester", feel free to check it out.

As always, I hope you enjoy!

Next Time on Left Unsupervised: Harry plays Quidditch, the Golden Trio is nearly caught by Filch, Hermione Pranks the twins


	4. Mirror, Mirror

a/n: So, I'd like to apologize for the delayed update, BUT I _do_ have two excuses for you- lackluster as they may be. First, I just moved back in at my University and the first week of classes was a bit of an organizational mess in terms of time-management. Second, I've also been writing a variety of one-shots (Sorry, they're a bit quicker for me to write than a chapter of this one!) in a five-part collection titled "Suite Nothings". Feel free to check them out and let me know what you think.

All that being said, I have some good news as well! I've officially outlined the majority of this story (and let me tell you, _that_ spans eight pages on its own, so it was a journey) and I'm very excited to have a plan to work with. From my tentative outline, it's looking like this story will be around 23-25 chapters, so hopefully I can find good times to regularly update you all!

Anyways, (here's Wonderwall) here's the next chapter of Left Unsupervised- let me know what you think/want to see in the reviews!

* * *

Hermione sat in the quidditch stands with a book in her hand, eager to discover how Harry would do in the first match of the season. She had read enough about Quidditch to understand the principles of the game, but she had yet to see anyone actually play it. Fred had told her that him and George played Beaters, _and we're bloody good at it too!_ , his voice reminded her. Ron had said that keeper was the most important position, because they kept the other team from scoring, but Hermione herself was most interested to see Harry's position play out. She knew he would be chasing after some miniscule ball, but beyond that, what was his role?

As she pondered this, the crowd around her stood to welcome the teams. She rose tentatively, peering around Hagrid to watch the players fly in. Emphatic boo-ing emerged from the stands around her as the Slytherins entered, and moments later a deafening roar rattled the seats as the Gryffindors burst onto the field. Both teams began to warm up, and Hermione felt her insides twist together strangely. She'd had an unnerving feeling of anticipation all day, one that had seemingly grabbed her by the shoulders and shaken her until she was unable to not be wary of all that was around her. Deciding that she would attempt to ignore it, Hermione sought out her friends on the pitch. Almost instantaneously, she spotted two redheads circling around the Gryffindor team and smiled to herself. The twins were scarily similar sometimes, but they were still their own people, all accounts of 'twin-telepathy' aside, a fact which they claimed led many rival quidditch players to ruin.

Turning her head to look for her classmate, she found him floating towards the edge of the pitch, looking nervously around at the huge turnout for the game. She caught his eye and she gave him a slight wave, which he tentatively returned before turning and flying down to meet the rest of his team.

Sooner than Hermione would've liked, the game started and her attention was drawn a million places at once. After watching Fred and George coordinate their attacks against the Slytherin chasers for a few minutes, Hermione noticed Harry moving suspiciously on his broom, and was horrified to see it begin bucking like a mechanical bull, moving every which way in a seeming attempt to knock him off. A confused expression crossed her features as she remembered how gracefully Harry had flown during their lesson and concluded that someone must have jinxed his broom. Borrowing Hagrid's binoculars, she scanned the crowd for any signs of foul play, before her eyes alighted on Professor Snape, his eyes locked on the broom and his mouth muttering what appeared to be an incantation, unintelligible to Hermione from across the pitch.

Explaining to Ron what her plan was, and telling him to keep an eye on Harry, Hermione snuck around her fellow students and made her way towards where Professor Snape was seated. She glanced up for a moment, only to see Fred and George attempting to hoist Harry onto one of their brooms, but failing spectacularly. Continuing on her way, she jostled her way amongst professors and students alike before reaching Professor Snape and conjuring a small bluebell flame upon his cloak.

Moments later, a cheer was heard as Harry caught, or swallowed, it would seem the snitch, and Gryffindor won the match. As Hermione hurried down to the pitch with the rest of her Housemates to congratulate their team, she couldn't help but continue to feel uneasy about the whole ordeal.

* * *

The match had been on the second Saturday of November, just four days after Fred and Hermione's first late-night rendez-vous for the month, meaning two weeks passed before Hermione and Fred met up again in the kitchens, and because of this, Hermione had plenty to fill Fred in on.

"...and I still can't believe Harry was so reckless as to accept a midnight duel challenge from _Draco Malfoy_ of all people, but there we were, running from Filch and Mrs. Norris when we stumbled into a room with a Cerberus in it- a real live three-headed dog! It was massive, and I almost screamed when I saw it, but one of the boys covered my mouth before I could. It was sleeping on the floor, and I could've sworn that it had its front paws on a trap door. I wonder what could be hiding under there…" She paused, before carefully swiping some cream off the top of her butterbeer with her finger and licking it off. "I'd bet Snape has something to do with it," she stated carefully, "Why else would he be limping and cursing Harry's broom, and just generally slinking around as if he was up to something?"

Fred snorted. "While those first two descriptions are particularly interesting, that third one is nothing new, just good ol' Snape, being, well….Snapey," he smirked before letting out a low whistle. "A Cerberus though, that's new. We've never had one of those just hiding out in the castle."

"It has to mean something, doesn't it?" She pressed, eager to figure out what the professors could be hiding.

"It might, or it could be Hagrid's new pet. Who knows? I would stay away from it if I were you," at this, Hermione lifted an eyebrow in surprise, "I know, it's rich coming from me, but I don't particularly want my brother, or you, or Boy-Wonder to get hurt."

Hermione smiled timidly at him before changing the subject.

"I'm leaving over the holidays, will we need to adjust our schedule?"

Fred looked at her in shock, first because he hadn't even realized the holidays were approaching so soon, and second because he hadn't really thought about her _not_ being here during that time. Two questions came to mind, and in his haste to ask them, his words came out in a jumbled, "Where are coming back?" She gave him a curious look, and he paused for a moment before running a hand through his hair in mild frustration, apparently settling on the priority of his two questions. "Are you coming back?"

At this, she choked on her beverage and needed a moment to compose herself. "What do you mean, am I coming back," she asked once she had regained all regular breathing functions, "Why wouldn't I be? It's just the holidays, unless there's some wizarding tradition I don't know about that requires you to leave indefinitely when you head home over the winter break…"

Fred shook his head sheepishly before responding, "It's just, you said that you would rather give up magic than feel as miserable as you were, and I didn't know if you still felt like that or if you wanted to leave or….I just wasn't sure. It's not like we come down here and discuss feelings all that often." _And thank goodness for that,_ Fred thought, _we couldn't have anyone knowing that I've developed a soft spot for you._

Hermione's complexion darkened considerably in a blush as she shook her head minutely.

"No, I think I'll be staying for a while."

Fred's face broke out into a charming grin as he surveyed the girl before him.

"Good, we needed someone to keep my idiot brother and his friend in line."

* * *

Four weeks later saw Fred and George in the courtyards on Christmas Eve Day, trading jokes and ideas as they watched first years struggle their way through the knee high snow that covered the school grounds. Professor Quirrell passed the two boys, glancing about suspiciously, and the twins took that as their cue. Within a moment, half a dozen snowballs were circling Quirrell's turban and pelting him sporadically as he attempted to swat them away. The Defense professor looked around, searching for the culprits, and from their hiding spot behind a wall, Fred and George could clearly see the glare he harbored as well as hear the obscenities he muttered before walking away, both of which resulted in a celebratory high five following his departure.

A few hours later, the twins and their youngest brother were sitting at a table in the great hall with Harry when the post came in for the day. Harry and Ron received identically wrapped packages, _from Hermione_ , Fred guessed, and George got a small colorful package himself that seemed to share the same paper as the younger boys' presents. Wondering why his brother had received a present and he hadn't, he looked up to see one last owl swoop through the Great Hall with a scroll tied neatly to its leg and land gracefully before him.

He untied the scroll and unrolled it to read the message:

"Fred,

I hope you're having a delightful holiday- and that you're keeping those boys out of trouble! Then again, what am I saying? You wouldn't be you without a sense of mischief. Anyhow, I wanted to give you something to express how much your friendship has meant to me, but I thought that your brothers may not have appreciated you being singled out so obviously, so instead of delivering it to the Great Hall, I researched around and found out that owls are not limited to making deliveries there, but to the first two floors, meaning our meeting-place was a viable option. So that's where your gift is, I hope you like it. I miss Ron, and Harry, and George, and you- especially our late night talks. It gets rather lonely being with my parents for this long without having anyone to talk to, particularly when I can't really tell them much of anything about the magical world. I'll be back shortly, though. My parents decided to cut the skiing trip a tad short this year, so I should be back near the end of this week. Have a Happy Christmas!

Best wishes,

Hermione."

Fred beamed, and George looked at him curiously. "Hermione says Happy Christmas, everyone."

"Anything else you'd like to share with the class, Gred?" George teased.

"Not unless you'd like to hear about sky-ing,"

"Ski-ing," Harry interjected

"-Or whatever it's called," Fred retorted.

"Whatever you say, Freddie," George said with a smirk.

* * *

Later that night, Fred made his way down to the kitchens to collect his present from Hermione. He was practically quivering with excitement as he tickled the pear to gain entry to the room. As the door swung open, he approached the table in the center of the kitchen cautiously, only to find nothing there. He gave the room a quick glance-over before deciding to pull out a chair and sit, thinking that, as the letter had come from far away, perhaps she hadn't sent the accompanying gift yet. He pulled out his usual chair and was about to sit down when he noticed a set of wrapped packages stacked neatly upon it.

He pulled the bottom one out of the stack first, a box which seemed large enough to hold a pair of shoes, or perhaps a quill and parchment set. He tore apart the wrapping paper eagerly, only to discover what appeared to be shiny cylinders full of some liquid. There was a note attached with a diagram of how to open the cylinder and access the liquid, which he dutifully followed and instantly regretted as the liquid within bubbled out over the top and all over his hands, like a poorly monitored potion. A drop of liquid fell on the diagram, and he watched the writing shift into a short note reading: "I thought you might like getting to try a fizzy drink or two (or six)"

He smiled and took a sip, barely managing to hold in his surprise at the bubbly liquid which flowed all the way down his throat into his stomach, before reaching for the top package.

This one was a book, Fred was confident.

" _101 Pranks for the Master Pranker_ "

His eyes widened as he began reading on about common sense, and hiding things in plain sight. So wrapped up in his newfound pranking bible, Fred nearly forgot about the third present.

He gently pulled back the wrapping only to see a gently used copy of " _Matilda_ ", with a note tucked inside the cover that said "I thought you might want to understand me a bit too, the same way I learned about you all."

Fred could've kissed the girl for her kind treatment, but unfortunately, said girl was yet to arrive back on campus, so instead, he adopted a slightly starry-eyed look on his face as he gingerly placed all three gifts into a bag that had been hiding beneath them. Smiling at nothing and no one in particular, Fred made his way back up to Gryffindor tower and curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace with his bag of goodies before pulling out the guide to pranking and diving in.

* * *

Hermione dusted some snow off of her jacket as she briskly walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. In her attempt to reach the Gryffindor dormitories as quickly as possible, she paid little attention to her surroundings and thus was caught off guard when she turned a corner and ran into two rather lanky identical redheads.

"Fred! George!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around each of the twins in turn, "I've missed you two quite a lot."

The twins exchanged a curious look with each other before responding.

"I hate to break it to you, 'Mione-" the twin on the left began, the letter G over his chest evident in the light emitting from the sconces.

"But I'm afraid your observation skills have declined while you were away," the 'F' clad twin finished.

"Quite a shame innit, Fred? She had such potential," the redhead on the left commented.

His brother nodded. "I agree, she could've been quite the serial prankster if we had gotten our hands on her sooner, Georgie."

Hermione looked between the twins with a bemused expression on her face before bursting out into laughter. The twins exchanged a confused look with each other and shrugged their shoulders before turning their gaze back to the girl in front of them.

"That was a good attempt, you two," Hermione stated with a small smile on her face, "But George," she nodded towards the boy on the right, "Fred," she repeated the action with the boy on the left, "You can't possibly think I wouldn't be able to tell you apart. Wearing each other's jumpers isn't quite enough to distract me from your identities." She grinned wickedly. "I, on the other hand, have now managed to distract _you_ long enough to prank you, and you haven't even noticed yet."

Fred and George looked at each other frantically, trying to figure out what the girl before them may have done. Neither brother seeing anything immediately concerning on the other, they both turned back to her curiously with expectant expressions on their faces.

"Oh come now, you can't _really_ think I would tell you what I've done, did you? If being around you two has taught me anything it's that the phrase 'a magician never reveals his secrets' can be surprisingly truthful." She smiled kindly at the two, "I hope you enjoyed your Christmas presents, by the way. I figured you might appreciate them."

Fred blushed slightly before regaining his composure and commenting, "I really liked the fizzy drinks, they were neat! You were right, it really does feel like there are bubbles going all the way down your throat."

George looked at his brother in surprise, before elbowing him in the ribs. "Oi, you tosser! Could've shared with me, you know!"

Fred smirked evilly, "I've still got some, but now that I know you _want_ one, I wouldn't be too careful with what you drink."

Hermione shook her head at the boys in front of her.

"While this little rencontre has been nice, I've got to go return my things to my dormitory, so unless you care to help…"

Both twins turned towards her, and in one fluid motion they had hoisted her trunk between them and begun carrying it towards Gryffindor tower, and Hermione chuckled as their backs (and the respective sticky-notes she had attached to them, distinguishing which twin was which) faced her, but followed dutifully behind the still bickering brothers.

* * *

A few days later, she was in the library researching Nicholas Flamel and frantically trying to recall which book she had checked out first term had mentioned his name.

Running a hand through her hair in irritation, Hermione pushed her current specimen to the side and reached for another one off of her stack mechanically, not bothering to look up and discover which tome she had selected. That is, until she was interrupted by a warm hand beneath hers on top of the stack.

Looking up in surprise, Hermione saw the grinning face of Fred staring back down at her.

"So, 'Mione, how were the hols?" He asked, plopping himself down into the seat across from her unceremoniously and leaning back precariously on the back chair legs.

"They were fine." she responded curtly, before collecting herself and leaning over the newest book, scanning for Flamel's name, "But I really must get this research done, and I can't have you distracting me."

"Oh come on, Hermione, we haven't even started the newest term yet, you can't possibly have this much work to do!" Fred said in a moderately irritated tone, unusual for him. "What are you looking for anyway?"

"If you must know, I'm researching something for Harry and Ronald, seeing as _neither_ of them know how to work a library, apparently," she spat out bitterly. Fred took this as a sign of anxiety, and took a book off of the stack she had grabbed from just moments before. Hermione looked up, startled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

"What are you doing?" she inquired.

Fred grinned, "Helping you, of course! I had something I wanted to show you, and it's clear that you're not going to be willing to leave until you've finished with this. So what am I looking for, exactly?"

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly before she regained control of her faculties and choked out, "It's not a what, it's a who. Nicholas Flamel, to be exact. These," she gestured to the pile of books to her right, "are all of the books that I checked out last term, and these," she motioned to her left, where another stack of books resided, "are all of the books that I checked out last term that I've gone back and looked through already." Fred let out a low whistle, there must've been at least 15 books to her left, and another 8-10 on her right.

"So what am I looking for in regards to Flamel?"

"Really anything," she sighed. "He was only mentioned in one of the books that I read last term, and I can't seem to remember which one it was, or what subject it was on, or where in the book it fell…" She trailed off, putting her head between her hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and meeting Fred's eyes for the first time since the start of their conversation. "It's just frustrating me, because I know I should remember, and in the back of my mind, I'm sure I do, but I've been sitting in here since breakfast, and I still can't place the reference, or what it said about him."

"You've been here since breakfast?" Fred exclaimed loudly, earning a stern glare from Madame Pince, the librarian, who up until this point had pointedly ignored his breaking of most other library rules. Sheepishly ducking his head and turning a shade darker than his usual complexion, Fred turned back towards Hermione. "That can't be good for you! You ought to have taken a break for lunch and eaten something. Ron told me that you had gone to the library, but I assumed he had meant recently, not nine hours earlier!"

Hermione rubbed her neck self-consciously, nodding along. "I know, it's just… I thought this would be faster- I thought that I would remember where it was and find it right away, and I haven't and now I just feel stupid."

Fred sent her a genuine smile and flicked her nose with his pointer finger. "Hey, you're not stupid-you're anything but. From what I've heard from McGonagall, you're quite the bright young witch. Researching like this would be hard for anyone, which is why I'm here to help," he finished with a smile, and was encouraged to see her smiling back at him, albeit not fully. It was a start.

"Let's make a deal," Fred started, and Hermione snorted.

"Sorry, it's just that that's the name of a muggle television show that's rather ridiculous," she explained, trying to hide her grin, as he looked at her in confusion. "Remind me to explain what televisions are to you sometime," she stated straightforwardly, "I think you'd enjoy them."

Fred nodded and continued, "As I was saying, what if we spend another hour in here at most, and then take a break for the night? I'm sure Madame Pince loves you, and I doubt she would hesitate to set aside whatever books we have left over if we haven't finished yet. Then we'll head down to the… to my surprise, and the kitchens are on the way, so we can get you some food as well." He finished with a flourish, his hands, having moved rapidly throughout his proposition now coming to rest, palms up, on the table.

Hermione sighed and nodded, "I suppose that could be alright," she said before passing him a book and turning back to her own.

Approximately 15 minutes later, Fred was wearily skimming the page of the book before him with his finger when he came across the name they had been looking for. He jolted in his seat, very nearly tipping over backwards in his chair, before slamming the book on the table, an act which got Hermione's attention almost instantly.

"I think I've found it!" He exclaimed.

"It says here, 'Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's stone...A legendary substance with astonishing powers. It'll transform any metal into pure gold, and produces the elixir of life, which will make the drinker immortal. The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist, who last year, celebrated his Six-Hundred and Sixty Fifth birthday.' That's got to be the reference you were looking for!"

Hermione beamed at him. "That's exactly it, I can't believe I didn't remember… Oh, no mind. I need to check out that book again so I can show it to Ron and Harry," she stated, rushing off to Madame Pince, leaving Fred alone at the desk. Seizing the opportunity, he levitated the books and sent them off to their respective bookshelves, the last one nestling into place just as Hermione returned.

"Ready to go on an adventure now, 'Mione?" Fred smiled gently at her.

Nodding enthusiastically as Fred turned to exit the library, Hermione placed the book into her bag and set off at a brisk pace to keep up.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Fred was skirting around the corridors of the dungeons with a curious, and now fed, Hermione in tow.

"Fred where are we-" Hermione started but was cut off as she ran into Fred, who had abruptly stopped in the middle of a corridor, and appeared to be weighing his options of going left or right. Apparently, left was the answer, as he suddenly grabbed Hermione's hand and nearly dragged her down the resulting hall, and into an abandoned classroom.

Almost immediately after they had entered, Fred covered Hermione's eyes with his hands and instructed her to walk forward. She tentatively took a few steps before he told her to stop, and removed his hands from her eyes. Before her was an mirror, with jewels along the top, and ornate gilding along the sides.

"You brought me to see a mirror?" She asked Fred skeptically, turning around to face him. The corner of his mouth turned up in a light smile at the practicality of the girl in front of him.

"Look at it again, trust me," he encouraged. Letting out an overdramatic sigh, Hermione turned to face the mirror again and gasped. There in the reflection stood herself, well, an older version of herself, from what she could tell. She was standing in front of a moderately sized house, with a briefcase in one hand, and another bouncing a toddler on her hip. Behind her was a man chasing another young one around the front yard. She caught a group of people on the front porch of the house and felt her heart swell and her eyes tear up at the realization that they were her friends, all of whom were safe, happy, and healthy. Reaching a hand up to touch the glass, she quietly asked "What is this? What is it doing?"

"It's called the _Mirror of Erised_ , apparently. Harry found it over the holidays and Professor Dumbledore explained it to him. It shows the innermost desires of your heart, according to him."

"That explains the…" Hermione trailed off, blushing, not wanting to explain that Fred was a part of her innermost desires.

"You don't have to tell me what you saw, 'Mione," Fred smiled gently at her. "I just thought you might appreciate the magic, it's quite extraordinary, if I do say so myself, after all, only George and I ever knew about our plans to start a joke shop, but when I stood before it earlier this week, it was all there, everything that my heart had ever desired deeply." He blushed a bit, before looking down at his feet for a moment. "Well, Me and George, and now you."

Hermione looked at him with her eyes still slightly watery, and gave him a fierce hug, which he returned, after the moment of surprise had passed. "Thank you for showing this to me, Fred. It's beautiful."

"Of course, 'Mione. Of course.

* * *

a/n: Ahhhh, it's good to be back to this story! I'm rather pleased with the way this turned out, and I'm excited to keep writing this plot along. Side note, I know I'm taking quite a while to go through Philosopher's/Sorceror's Stone, but in my mind, it's really necessary to fully develop the direction that I want to take Fred and Hermione's relationship, so bear with me as we finish up year one in the next chapter. Let me know what you're thinking with the review button below!

Next Time on Left Unsupervised: Harry and Co go into the Forbidden Forest, and decide to defend the stone.


	5. Detentions, Deductions, and Dissensions

a/n: First off, thank you all so much for the glowing support! I'm so glad to be back writing this story and I positively love hearing what you have to say about it, so please keep reviewing (I cry-with happiness- a little bit inside when I read kind reviews, so… It's quite nice)!

As an additional note, to the guest who commented (and I quote): "One more stupid let's bash Ron to put hermonie with someone else story", I'd like to address a few things.

1) According to both the books AND the movies, Ron was a right jerk to Hermione prior to the incident with the troll on Halloween (which takes place in the third chapter of this fic- you apparently stopped after the second). Also, if you look in that second chapter, I even state that Ron wasn't trying to be mean, he just didn't like that this girl was showing him up and making the first year less fun from what he had expected.

2) My plan was _never_ to "bash Ron" as you so eloquently put it, but rather to give more of an insight to Hermione's thoughts during those first few weeks. I find their friendship to be very important, and if you had stuck around to the third chapter, you would see that.

3) I've done a lot of research thus far to keep things accurate to both the plot and the time period, and while I recognize that I'm tweaking things here and there to fit the confines of my story, there's a certain point where you have to accept that this is _fanfiction._ I am NOT J.K. Rowling, therefore nothing I write is canon. I can wish that it was all I want, but at the end of the day, this is _my_ story, not hers, therefore, if you don't approve, don't read it. I'm not forcing you to read my work, so if you're that upset about the fact that this story will end up being a FredxHermione story, then _don't read it._

 **WITH THIS IN MIND:** Please understand that I'm using elements of both the book **AND** the movie, it just depends on the context of the situation and how I think using certain details would further my main plot in this story. I apologize in advance if that bothers you, but, to be fair, and to remind you again, this IS fanfiction, not the original works of J.K. Rowling. Any author on here is allowed to change a plot as much or as little as they see fit, just because I'm having mine span the timeline of the books doesn't mean that my ability to change parts of the story is void.

4) I don't appreciate being called stupid; I can't imagine anyone who does. Try and keep your comments (even if they're criticisms) constructive. A helpful suggestion is one thing, but an insult is just downright rude. (That goes for anyone, not just this reviewer: BE NICE)

Now that I've gotten _that_ little rant out of the way, we should be clear to continue, so without further ado, here we go!

* * *

Hermione didn't think any of this was a good idea. Sneaking around, investigating, being out after curfew. But she finally had friends, and if this was what wanted to do, then she would acquiesce –which was not to say that she would do whatever her friends told her to do, she wasn't a lemming– after all, she was just as intrigued as they were about the mysterious Philosopher's Stone and the Cerberus on the third floor.

As the trio knocked on Hagrid's front door, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. She glanced around quickly, and could've sworn she saw movement behind a rock about halfway up the path back to the castle, but as she maintained eye contact, she saw nothing and did her best to convince herself that she was seeing things.

Hagrid opened the door and the three rushed in, eager to be out of the view of any curious eyes from the castle.

Harry, the closest of the three to Hagrid, started the conversation off right away

"We know about the Philosopher's Stone. Snape's trying to steal it."

* * *

Half an hour later, the three Gryffindors were standing before Professor McGonagall and getting a stern talking to, while Malfoy stood on and smirked.

"…Out after curfew! I expected better from you, Miss Granger. And you, Mister Weasley, surely your brother has discussed the rules of the castle with you…" She sighed tiredly. "What's done is done. The four of you will serve a detention with Hagrid this Saturday."

"The four of us, Professor?" Hermione ventured timidly, not wanting to aggravate her head of house any more than she already had.

"Yes, four. You, Misters Weasley and Potter, _and_ Mister Malfoy."

"But Professor-" Malfoy started but was cut off by a piercing glare from the Gryffindor professor.

"You didn't think I wouldn't notice that you too were out far past your curfew? I'll be hearing no arguments from you, Mister Malfoy."

Draco shut his mouth quickly and nodded, as McGonagall looked between her students with a disappointed expression, before dismissing them curtly. "Off to bed, all of you. And if I hear about any more curfew disturbances this evening, we'll be having a much more serious discussion," she said, eyeing Harry in particular, who blushed profusely.

"Yes Professor," the three Gryffindors chorused, before sheepishly shuffling their feet towards their common room.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "I can't believe that Hagrid thinks keeping a dragon is a safe endeavor- his house is half wooden, a creature with flames like that could leave him homeless."

Ron shook his head, smiling slightly. "We told him about Charlie, now it's up to him to deal with it, Hermione. We can't make him do anything."

Hermione shook her head in frustration and muttered something about fools waiting for emergencies to prepare before pushing past the two boys and briskly walking up to the tower.

* * *

"He's got a dragon in that hut of his? That seems…"

"Unsafe? Preposterous? Reckless? Ridiculous?"

"I was going to say, 'that seems like something that Hagrid would do,' but I suppose most of those adjectives are applicable too," Fred grinned at Hermione, who blushed slightly.

The two students had met up for an impromptu kitchen run on Saturday night before Hermione was off to her detention with Harry, Ron, and Malfoy. The younger girl was pacing around the room anxiously, unable to sit still when her nerves felt like they were close to overwhelming her.

"I'm just worried, Fred. Harry has his mind set on the idea that Snape is after the Philosopher's Stone, there's a three-headed dog on the third floor, Hagrid's got a baby dragon in his hut…It feels like something bad is coming." Hermione murmured carefully as she sat on a stool across from him and nibbled on a cracker that Fred had on the plate in front of him. "I just want everyone to stay safe."

"I know you do, 'Mione. That's one of the reasons you're such a good friend of theirs. You keep them out of trouble," Fred smiled sweetly at her, although she avoided looking at him, ducking her head to stare pointedly at her fingers, which seemed unable to keep still in her lap. "C'mon now, don't fret. You've done much more for them than they would ever be willing to admit that they've realized, and that's coming from me, the king of pranks and mischief! If I've noticed it, I'm sure they're aware. They appreciate your concern, I promise, it's just that they're also eleven-year-old boys, and are utter rubbish at saying so," he said as she looked up at him with slightly misty eyes.

Looking away, Hermione changed the subject, eager to get shift the spotlight off of her. "I'm a bit nervous to go into the Forbidden Forest tonight. I've never been –I mean, it's forbidden, so why would I have been? – but I've heard that there are all sorts of terribly gruesome things in there, and it's just…I don't especially like the dark." As she said this she blushed profusely, and again busied herself by reaching for another cracker off Fred's plate. Fred however, intercepted her hand and held it tightly for a moment before speaking quietly.

"Listen, 'Mione, there are plenty of reasons to be scared of the dark. That's not childish or foolish at all, trust me. The best wizards are still afraid of things, where do you suppose boggarts come from? Before I go any further, I want to make sure you understand that, alright? I don't think it's silly, and I doubt your friends would either. For Godric's sake, Ron is still afraid of spiders," at this, he lowered his voice slightly and whispered, "Not that Georgie and I were involved in any of that," before smirking and continuing. "If he had the nerve to tell someone else off for a legitimate fear, then he's much more of a dunce than George and I realized. And Harry," he paused, unsure of what to say here, "Harry seems like a nice enough bloke, I'm sure he wouldn't think it strange." At this point in his speech, Fred seemed to notice that he still hadn't let go of Hermione's hand and released it, his cheeks darkening slightly before he continued. "As for the forest, if you've got Hagrid with you, you'll be fine. He'll probably take you a few feet in to collect some plants that you can only harvest in moonlight or something, nothing too ridiculous." The girl in front of him still looked terrified, so he offered up another suggestion. "I can wait up for you if you'd like. In the common room, I mean."

Hermione nodded ferociously before throwing herself at Fred, nearly knocking him from his relaxed perch on his stool. "Thank you, Fred. For everything."

Trying not to get distracted by the slight scent of apples that wafted from her hair and ambushed his senses, Fred returned the hug and patted the younger girl on the back. "That's what friends are for, 'Mione. It's why we're here."

Fred did indeed wait up for Hermione that night, however, when she entered the room with Harry, she quickly made eye contact with him and shook her head, clearly saying she didn't want to talk with him.

Confused, but glad to see that she was alright, Fred made his way towards his dormitory before pausing and glancing back at the two first-years. Harry had sat upon on the sofa and hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, looking to all the world as if he was about to start strategizing game plans, well, that or praying. Hermione, meanwhile, stoked the fire for a moment before turning to sit in front of her friend. As she moved to kneel next to Harry on the sofa, she again made eye contact with Fred, and this time, mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the redhead before focusing her attention on the bespectacled boy beside her.

Contented with this resolution, and certainly preferring it to the brusque nod he had received earlier from the girl, Fred headed off to his dormitory to conspire with George before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The next week was busy for all of the students. Exams were nearing, hence the upperclassmen flitted around their common rooms in mini flurries, starting in the Hogwarts library and working until close, then moving to their respective towers, only to continue their work into the wee hours of the morning, sleep a slight amount, and then resurrect their notes and revisions at breakfast the next day.

Hermione, first-year though she was, was just as eager to study for her end of the year exams. She had been waiting for the opportunity to gauge her magical abilities all year, to have the chance to finally determine whether or not she belonged in this world after all, and was thrilled that her countdown was approaching zero.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were not as enamored by the prospect of sitting exams, but beyond that, they were still fostering a terrible suspicion that Professor Snape was going to steal the Philosopher's Stone, they just didn't know how.

By Friday, the trio had finished all of their exams and was sitting around in the common room talking when Harry suddenly shot up and smacked his forehead loudly.

"Of course! How did I not see it sooner? Ron, Hermione, we need to go talk to Hagrid!"

"Harry, what is this about?" Hermione asked, curious as to what the boy in front of her had realized.

"Yeah mate, we've already taken all of our exams, there's not much more he can do for us at this point…" Ron added, feeling particularly cozy at the moment, and not at all inclined to make the walk to Hagrid's hut in what would inevitably be a damp, chilly evening.

"Something he said has been bothering me all week. He said he would've loved a dragon and then all of a sudden some mystery patron offers one up? You said it yourself, Ron. Those dragons aren't native to the area, it's not like someone could've just picked up a Norwegian Ridgeback egg at Magical Menagerie. That can't just be a coincidence. It can't." Harry exclaimed in frustration. "We need to talk to Hagrid about this!"

Hermione and Ron exchanged doubtful looks behind Harry's back, but reluctantly stood up and went with their friend down to Hagrid's.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the trio was back in the Gryffindor common room, armed with the knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone was going to be stolen that evening, and that Professor Dumbledore could do nothing to stop it because he had been summoned away from the school.

"We have to steal it before _he_ does- if we don't, who knows what could happen?" Harry said emphatically.

"Harry, I know you don't like Snape all that much, but are you sure about this?" Hermione inquired carefully, not wanting her friend to think her distrustful of him, but also doubting that a Professor would truly be behind this sort of heinous activity.

"Hermione, there's no one else it could possibly be. It _has_ to be Snape, and tonight _must_ be the night he's been waiting for. We need to get to the stone before he does!" Harry pleaded with his friend.

Hermione considered the facts silently for a moment, before sighing heavily and muttering "Fine, we'll go."

Another voice suddenly joined the fray, shocking the trio.

"No, you won't! You've already lost us 200 points from Gryffindor from your nighttime adventures, I won't let you go out again and lose us more points!" Neville Longbottom stated passionately as he hopped out of a chair next to the nearly-dead fire, and approached them where they stood near the door.

Hermione winced as she said aloud "I'm really sorry about this, Neville," before casting a slight Petrification spell on him and turning back to face Harry and Ron. "So, are we going, or not?"

* * *

Fred and George were just returning to the common room, content with their end of the year prank spectacular, involving coats of armor, a particularly devious poltergeist, and toilet seats, when they were confronted by Neville Longbottom laying Petrified on the floor of the common room. Quickly saying the counter-spell, George helped the boy up and to the sofa before re-lighting the fire in the fireplace and turning back towards the shivering boy in front of him.

"What happened Lon-Neville? How did you-" George started but didn't finish as the boy cut him off mid-question.

"It was….it was Ron, and Harry, and Hermione! They went off into the castle muttering about some stone and I told them not to, they can't keep losing us house points, but then Hermione apologized and petrified me just like that."

Fred paled at the boy's explanation, and sank into an armchair as he let his thoughts wander into a realm of anxiety for a moment picturing Harry, Hermione, and his brother going up against Professor Snape, a git on a good day, cruel on a bad, but a powerful wizard nonetheless –or at least, he thought it was a moment, until he was brought back to the present by George lightly grabbing his shoulder and shaking it while saying his name.

"Freddie, what's the matter?"

"I know where they are, and I know what they're doing, George. They've just walked straight into a trap."

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione's heart was racing at a pace which she just knew wasn't healthy. She pushed the thought aside for a moment, knowing that there were bigger problems at the moment than her current resting heart rate. Ron was lying unmoving on the chessboard ahead of her, and as much as she wanted nothing more but to run to him and make sure he was alright, she knew enough about the game of chess that the three had walked into to know that they needed to win before they could leave their respective positions on the board.

The few minutes it took for Harry to emerge as the victor of the game dragged on into hours in Hermione's mind, which was whirring and buzzing with anxiety for her friend laying on the floor, as well as for herself and the boy next to her. As soon as the King's sword fell, she ran to Ron and felt for a pulse. She didn't realize that she had been holding her breath until she let out a long exhale at the feeling of blood thrumming beneath her fingers on Ron's wrist.

"I think he'll be okay, he's just knocked out it would seem. That was a bit of a fall he took, after all." Hermione stated solemnly, not knowing how to proceed from here. Did she leave her newest friend behind on the chess board and follow Harry into the next room, or was that cruel? Harry looked at the girl and could practically hear her brain crying out and asking for a break from the anxiety, and so he pulled the girl close to him for a moment, into a tight hug.

"Ron knew what he was doing, Hermione, in the same way that you did when you agreed to come down here. I can't lose you both at the same time down here. I need you to come with me. I need you." He whispered into her ear as she shook slightly in his arms. He moved away from her, keeping his hands on her shoulders, and looking at her straight on, giving her no chance to divert her eye contact. "Will you join me?"

Hermione nodded before Harry turned around and began walking towards the next room, seemingly designed to be similar to an abandoned classroom with its shelves and desks.

There was a long table in the center of the room, behind which stood a doorway that was rimmed with black flames. As Hermione and Harry entered the room fully, they jumped as they heard the sound of wood igniting, only to find that the door they had entered through was now also coated in flames, though this time of the purple variety.

Hermione approached the table, gathering that this was the next test. She looked at the seven potions sitting on the table and then at the scroll of parchment lying next to them, and smiled hesitantly before turning to Harry.

"It's a logic riddle."

* * *

George stared at his brother with a look of intense curiosity. "What do you mean they've walked into a trap, Fred? What's going on?"

Fred sighed and put his thumb and finger against opposite sides of his nose as if staving off a migraine. "You know that Hermione and I have been meeting up every month in the kitchens, right?" George nodded, and Fred inclined his head slightly to see his brother's response. "Yeah, well, after the holidays, I went to find her and ask about her Christmas, and she was in the library, apparently, she'd been holed up there for hours, searching for information about Nicholas Flamel."

"Who's that?" George interrupted, interested to find out how Hermione's research tied into the trio's current predicament.

"The maker of the Philosopher's Stone," Fred stated dismally, standing up and pacing in front of the fire, as he saw George's eyes grow wide. "Which Hermione thought was being hidden at Hogwarts, after she started piecing together unusual findings around the school. George, if that thing's hidden here at Hogwarts where she thinks it is…" He trailed off, unsure of whether or not to let his brother see how deep of a hold the growing fear in his stomach had on him. "If the Professors know that the stone is hidden here at Hogwarts, which I'm sure they do, then they would've put dozens of enchantments upon it, not to mention tasks to complete in order to reach it, wouldn't you think?"

George thought for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. "But what does the stone being here have to do with those three exactly?"

"Well, that's where the second part comes in. Hermione told me that Harry had mentioned Snape behaving oddly, and I tried to convince her that he was always odd, but she didn't seem to want to believe that. They thought that he was going to steal the stone, and if they've gone off after it, they must be trying to stop him- Merlin! Hermione said that the Cerberus was sitting on a trap door, George, they're going to get themselves killed going after that thing!"

"Hey. Hey! Fred! Look at me! Calm down." George cut off his brother from his next lap in front of the fireplace, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "If what you've said is all true, then there's a good chance they're in danger, yes." Fred glared at his twin, not sure how this pep talk was making the situation any better. "But what you're forgetting is that they've got Granger with them. The girl's brilliant, even I can admit that. She's probably read half the books in the library by now and memorized all of the spellwork through the fourth-year curriculum. So yes, I understand that you're worried about them. So am I. Don't forget that Ron is my kid brother too, not just yours." Fred broke eye contact with his brother to look sheepishly down at his feet.

"I know George, it's just… I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Herm- to _him_ and we hadn't done anything to stop it."

"Well, there's not much we can do from here, is there? All that's left to do is wait and hope that they know what they're doing."

* * *

Hermione handed Harry a glass vial and counted down from five before whispering "bottoms up" and downing the potion at the same time as her friend. Her slight frame shuddered as she felt the potion slide down her throat, while Harry eyed her carefully.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked with concern written plainly on his face.

"I'll be fine, Harry. Now go. You're a brilliant wizard, and you're capable, I promise." Harry nodded curtly and watched as his friend took a deep breath and stepped through the purple flames, emerging unharmed on the other side. He blew out air slowly as he realized she had survived and was herself plenty capable of caring for herself and Ronald in the room beyond.

Taking a rather desperate gasp of air, Harry clenched his wand in his hand and stepped through the black flames, and felt the air being sucked out of him as he recognized the profile of the Professor that stood before him.

* * *

Fred and George had fallen asleep on the sofa, and it was there that Hermione found them, near 3 am, when she finally was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing.

Madame Pomfrey had (quite sensibly) immediately begun running diagnostic spells on Harry when the trio was escorted by Professor Dumbledore into the infirmary, leaving an unconscious Ron and a slightly bruised Hermione to wait. After an hour and a half, Harry had been given multiple calming draughts to ease his sleep, and Ron a calming draught and a pain potion to ease the concussion that Hermione suspected he had procured from his fall off of the knight piece. Hermione had been given a calming draught to take before she went to bed, and was dismissed back to her common room with a strict warning from Madame Pomfrey that visiting hours were in fact statutes, and not suggestions.

Hermione barely noticed the ache in her shoulder until she approached the Gryffindor portrait, so engrossed in her mental recap of what had happened that all other senses had been forgotten. Until she stepped into the common room and saw the warm fire, and cozy sofa, both of which seemed to be calling her. She quietly walked towards the fireplace and was about to kneel in front of it when she heard her name.

"What are you doing down here so late, 'Mione?" a voice lazily mumbled.

Hermione, not expecting anyone to be in the common room at this hour, let alone awake, jerked around to face the voice, wincing as she felt a sharp twinge in her shoulder and mentally cursing Devil's Snare for not putting her down gently on the cold, marble chess board that had laid beneath. As she identified the speaker, she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Fred," she started and then paused, unsure of what to tell him. The whole school would find out tomorrow at the end of the year feast anyway, she imagined. Hermione made up her mind and quietly stated, "I'm glad to see you."

Fred seemed taken aback by this reaction, for some reason, and sat up drowsily, evidence of his nap in the unruly shock of hair on his head, and the slightly off-kilter jumper he was wearing. "I'm glad to see you too, 'Mione. We were worried, y'know," he yawned, "Georgie and I, I mean, we were worried, we- I- it was- I was worried, I figured out pretty quickly where you three had wandered off to and well, George had to stop me from wearing a hole in the carpet…" his explanation had gained speed as he went on, before he suddenly trailed off and looked away.

"You can't do that to us, 'Mione," he sighed and massaged his temples gently. "You can't do that to me." At this, he made eye contact with her and closed the gap between them with two easy steps. "You mean too much to just go running into danger without telling anyone."

Hermione bit her lip anxiously and nodded, before throwing her arms around Fred in a fierce hug. The redhead in her arms chuckled lightly before he noticed the tears that had started rolling down her cheeks. "Hey, hold on a mo-what's the matter, 'Mione. I'm not really cross with you- I was worried, sure, but not angry. What are the tears for?"

In an attempt to make herself calm down, Hermione took a deep breath, which turned into more of a shuddering gasp before closing her eyes and leaning into Fred's warm chest and shaking with her sobs.

"It's just that," she hiccupped, "I was so scared that- hic-This wasn't like the troll, it was…It was worse, and -hic- I didn't know if any of us were going to -hic- make it out." She paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before continuing. "Ron was unconscious on the floor, and Harry told me we had to keep going, and then there were potions and I was afraid I was going to accidentally poison Harry, and then he went on ahead and faced Voldemort." She looked up at Fred, and he froze under her gaze, impressively fierce for someone with a runny nose and red-rimmed eyes. "Voldemort, Fred! He could've died. He nearly did! Pomfrey said he'll be fine, but there was an incredible surge of magic that could have killed him and I don't know what I would've done if he had died- it was just awful!" She finished and burrowed closer to him again.

It was all Fred could do to hold the girl in front of him tightly, and whisper that everything was going to be alright, she'd see.

* * *

The next day, Harry and Ron were released from the Hospital Wing, and Hermione was waiting to capture them in hugs as soon as they opened the door, emerging close to lunchtime.

"I'm glad the two of you are safe. I would've been devastated if anything were to have happened to you," the petite brunette said solemnly.

The boys nodded at her, and after a moment, Ronald sent her a grin.

"You know what, Hermione?"

She raised an eyebrow in the direction of the lanky redhead, "Yes, Ronald?"

"You made a good bishop, I think I'll make a Wizard's Chess player of you yet.

Harry held back a chuckle as Hermione rolled her eyes, turned, and began walking towards the Great Hall, Ron trailing behind and holding his side in laughter.

As the trio entered the Great Hall, Hermione made eye contact with George, who sent a reassuring smile her way, and then Fred, whose eyes lit up at her appearance, and who subtly motioned to the spot next to him on the bench. She headed towards him, Harry and Ron electing to sit opposite her as they all became settled and began placing food on their plates.

All too soon, Dumbledore was standing and announcing the house rankings at the end of the year. Landing in last place wasn't satisfying for any of the Gryffindors, but what seemingly made it worse was the gloating expression on every Slytherin's face as they heard that they had defeated Gryffindor by over 150 points.

"However," Professor Dumbledore began, "Recent events must be taken into account, and I have a few last-minute points to award."

At this, Hermione, who had been resting her head rather glumly on her hand and absentmindedly pushing food around on her plate, jerked her head up towards the headmaster.

"To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect when others were in grave peril," Dumbledore paused, and the girl in question looked at her friends in shock, both of whom smiled broadly at her, "Fifty points."

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers and Hermione felt herself blush profusely as she stared down at her plate, before looking up to catch Fred's eye, and blush even further as she saw the animatedly vigorous claps that he and his twin were leading and the blindingly bright smile he wore.

"Second, to Mister Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, fifty points." Hermione looked over to see Harry's jaw drop, and Ron adopt a rather surprised look, and eagerly joined in the applause for her friend, enjoying the slight pink tinge that his cheeks had adopted.

"And third, to Mister Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

At this, the entire Hall burst into cheers as they realized what Hermione whispered a few seconds later, "We're tied with Slytherin!"

Dumbledore's voice broke through the applause yet again, however, and the students fell silent as they awaited his words.

"And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award ten points to Neville Longbottom." Again, the hall roared with cheering and applause, while Neville looked dazedly at his classmates, in shock that _he_ had won them house points.

Under Dumbledore's direction, the banners in the hall changed from emerald green to a rich crimson, and as he announced "Gryffindor wins the House Cup!" the students broke out into deafening cheers and jumped into the air, throwing their hats and giving Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville tight hugs and close high fives.

* * *

Seven hours later, the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross Station, and Hermione was delighted to see her parents waiting for her. As the train stopped, Hermione eagerly grabbed her luggage and ran off the carriage to embrace her parents.

"I've missed you so much!" She exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around them both. Her parents chuckled as their daughter's eyes lit up with excitement.

"We're glad to see you too Little Mina, do you have all of your things? We had aimed to leave soon to beat the traffic going home." Laura Granger said, brushing her daughter's hair down and planting a kiss on the top of her head. Hermione nodded for a moment before stopping herself, "Wait, there are some people I need to say goodbye to first."

She ran off, searching for a crowd of red-heads, and quickly spotted them near the third carriage of the train. She ran into the center of the group to find Harry and Ron, before pulling them into fierce hugs.

"You have to promise to write this summer, I want to hear from you. _Both_ of you," she said, looking pointedly at Ron, who had the decency to look sheepish. "We will, Hermione," they chorused, and she hugged them again tightly. "Thank you for being my friends," she said when she finally released them, moving her hands in front of her jumper to fidget with a loose thread that was unraveling, and refusing to make eye contact with either boy.

"We wouldn't trade you for the world, Hermione," Harry said with a smile.

"Not even for an extra chocolate frog or two," Ron added, "Unless the card was of Ptolemy, then I _might_ consider it." He grinned as Hermione cracked a smile and smacked his arm gently.

Not entirely wanting to leave this safe environment, she pulled the two boys into another hug before turning to make her way back to her parents. She was four steps out of the center of the mass of Weasleys when her path was blocked by a particularly gangly redhead.

"Now now, 'Mione, you didn't possibly think that you'd be able to leave without saying goodbye to me, did you?" Hermione's eyes grew wide and her face split into a grin. "Fred!" she exclaimed, before running to him and nearly toppling him over with the force of her hug. "You have to promise me that you'll write! I don't know if Harry will be able to with his relatives, and _everybody_ knows that Ronald will forget, but I'll be expecting them from you, sir."

Fred chuckled at the girl before him and extricated himself from her hug, mock saluting before he responded, "Aye aye, Captain. Yes Ma'am!" Hermione snorted and began laughing profusely, and Fred felt his heart swell at the change of attitude from their conversation the previous night by the fire.

"Now Hermione, I need you to promise me something too, well two things actually, can you do that?" He asked with a more sobered expression on his face.

Hermione looked at him curiously, before nodding her head gently and asking, "What is it, Fred?"

"First, I need you to promise that you won't let yourself be lonely." Hermione blushed at this, but Fred continued. "I know there won't be magical folk around you, but you're a smart girl, and when people get to know you, you're impossible to dislike. I want you to make some friends out there, okay? It's your first summer after being exposed to magic, I'm sure it'll feel strange and uncomfortable, but it's up to you to make that discomfort a learning and growing experience."

Hermione nodded her head before quietly asking, "What's the second promise?"

"Oh, that's much easier. I want you to promise that you'll write whenever you get really upset. If you get lonely, or feel misunderstood, or even just need a good pick-me-up, I'll be here. That's how our relationship worked while at Hogwarts, I don't see why that needs to change over the summer."

Hermione beamed at this, and she threw herself at the boy in front of her for the second time in three minutes. "Oh, Fred," she began, and as he inhaled the lingering scent of apples from her hair, he felt his heart skip a beat and mentally chastised himself before pausing to allow himself to appreciate the moment. "I'm going to miss you terribly. You've been so kind to me, and I can't thank you enough for everything you've done this year. Truly, I can't." She looked up and hugged him a little tighter before releasing him from her arms, standing on her tiptoes and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you in a few months, Fred. Write soon."

As Hermione walked back to her parents, Fred's gaze lingered on her retreating form, and she turned around before reaching her destination to smile and wave her hand at him gently. He returned the gesture before rejoining the rest of his family and preparing to head back to the Burrow for the summer, thinking all the while of how he could keep his emotions in check and his thoughts from wandering to a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor.

* * *

a/n: Wow, this chapter took me FOREVER to write, which may just be because there was a lot of book plot that I had to fit Fred/Hermione around. Anyhow, thus concludes Year One at Hogwarts for the Golden Trio, hope you've enjoyed the story so far! I'm excited to get started on the next chapter, especially because in my opinion, the plot for this fic really starts to pick up around book two, which is _next_!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as per usual, let me know how I'm doing in the comments below, as stated before, I have some pretty great reactions to getting reviews so…

Next Time on _Left Unsupervised_ : The Golden Trio returns to Hogwarts, Hermione meets a new Weasley, and Fred realizes that he's terrible at hiding his emotions from his twin brother.


	6. Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun (Pt 1 of 2)

a/n: Aaaaaaand we're back! (I know, I'm sorry, it's been _quite_ a while, but I'm here now, and that's what matters, right?)

I'm really excited for you all to start reading my version of year two, it's a pretty good year of growth and development for both individual characters _and_ relationships.

Also PSA this book is where I more aggressively start changing plot points, which isn't the world's biggest deal, but since some of you have pointed out canonical inconsistencies, I figure I would put this notice up now, before someone is coming at my neck with the accusation that I don't know how the plot goes.

As per usual, I own nothing but my own plot ideas and such. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Hermione yawned as she folded back the covers to her bed and headed downstairs to make some breakfast for herself. The stairs gave a gentle, familiar creak as she descended, running a hand through her hair before deciding to throw it up into a haphazard bun. She looked herself over critically in the mirror by the front door before turning towards the kitchen and humming the tune of the Whitney Houston song that had been playing on the radio all summer. She was nearly done with the bacon when she heard a tapping noise on the window above the sink. Taking her food off of the heat to turn her attention towards the direction of the noise, Hermione saw Errol, the Weasley family's owl, and a grin forced itself onto her face.

She gave the owl a nice pat on the head before untying the letter and unfolding it to read it.

"Dearest and most charming 'Mione of mine,

It's been quite the week-end for us Weasley boys. Just this past Saturday, Ronnie told George and I that Harry was being trapped in his room by his relatives, and by Sunday we had devised a plan, and were mid-trip in Dad's Anglia to Harry's. I wish you could've seen the look on his face when we pulled up to his window, it was like he had never seen an enchanted flying car before! Come to think of it, I'd bet galleons that your reaction would've been pretty similar. Regardless, Harry's here now, and everyone is right happy about that. No one wanted him to be secluded like that anyhow, and Mum's been tutting over him since he got here –after she got through yelling at us, that is– about him being too skinny and needing food, so I daresay he'll develop a Weasley appetite sometime soon. Everyone loves him, particularly our sister Ginevra"

At this line, there was a smudge across the parchment, where Fred's hand had clearly been jostled by someone, or something.

"-er, Ginny. Between you and me, I didn't realize how much she hated her full name, but here we are- you with a spoilt letter, and me with a right bruise on my arm. Anyway, I'm glad you've been making friends, I can only hope that you haven't forgotten about me, though!"

Hermione could picture the smirk on his face as she read, and giggled at the idea of ever forgetting Fred, before moving on in the letter.

"Right, well, I've got something to ask you, and I would've preferred to see you in person for this, but you aren't here and I'm not there, and well, obviously that complicates things. Our sister Ginny is going to be a first year, and I think she's a bit nervous about coming to Hogwarts. I mean, with a legacy like the one Georgie and I have set up, who wouldn't be? I also can't imagine that the altercation you witnessed at Diagon Alley helped at all, that idiot Lucius Malfoy makes my skin crawl. Anyhow, she's a good kid- she's wicked smart, with a clever sense of humor and a good head on her shoulders- but she's nervous, and I thought that maybe you would understand those nerves a bit better than anyone else in our family, seeing as you're a girl and she's a girl and all that stuff."

Hermione could nearly hear Fred's voice as she read this sentence, starting off joking with her, then dropping pitch a tad as he began a more serious subject, speeding up and then trailing off when he had gotten through the most compelling portion of his argument. She wistfully sighed into her mug and took a sip of tea before continuing.

"So, all that being said, I was hoping that, maybe you would let her sit with you and Harry and Ron on the train ride? I'm afraid George and I don't usually have much room in our carriage, and beyond that, I can't quite imagine that she'd be fond of the idea of sitting with a group of fourth years on her first trip to school. You don't have to say yes right away, I'll give you some time to think about it. I know that establishing friendships with those boys meant a lot to you, and if you don't want Ginny to intrude on that, I would never force her onto you. I just wanted to ask, and give you a chance to consider it.

In more pressing news, George and I have been experimenting with potions lately, and I think we've got some of our best pranks ahead of us, I can't wait to tell you all about them when we get back to school! (I can't risk it in the letter, Mum might catch a glimpse of it over my shoulder and then it'd be game over for us)

I hope you're doing brilliantly, Mistress Mione of the Granger variety, and- oh! One more thing. I don't know what this 'roller-blading' business is, but if I hear that you've gotten yourself hurt doing it, I'll gladly get myself over to your house and vanish every culpable object. (Unless, of course, you've had fun regardless, in which case, carry on, by all means)

You are the best and the brightest, and your intellect shines like Ronald's face after Christmas Eve dinner.

Yours truly,

Frederick Gideon Weasley (the First!)"

Hermione chuckled to herself, now feeling grateful that she hadn't told Fred about the sprained wrist she had gained from falling while descending a hill on her roller-blades the month before. She'd save that story for another time, she decided. Smiling, she took her food to the table and grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper before sitting down to write a reply.

* * *

Fred rushed to the barrier to platform 9 ¾ with his twin, barreling through out of breath and grinning. He saw his sister and older brother ahead of him, and smirked at George before running towards the rest of his family. Looking around, he noticed that their youngest brother was missing.

"Mum, where'd you leave Ronniekins?"

"Fred Weasley, you know how he hates that nickname! He and Harry were right behind you two boys when we were heading in, I'd expect they're just making their way through the barrier now. C'mon you, all of you!" She addressed her brood of redheads, "We're running late as is, don't want any of you to miss the train!"

Fred and George exchanged simultaneous smirks as they clamored onto the train, noting the clock three minutes from 11 o'clock.

"I'll bet you Ron and Harry missed the timeline for the barrier," Fred said as he turned to his brother with a devious grin on his face.

"I wouldn't doubt it, Gred." George smiled at his brother for a moment before his face suddenly paled and he stopped in the middle of the train corridor. "Wait a moment, Fred- how are they going to get to Hogwarts? Neither of them can apparate, or do magic outside of school yet, how are they supposed to get to school? If they're stuck outside the barrier, Mum and Dad won't see them on their way out, and then they'll just be stuck there. How are they-"

Fred cut his brother off with a gentle smile. "Woah there, Forge, they'll be fine- Harry's a good kid, and Ron's bloody stubborn, and then Hermione is brilliant, I'm sure between the three of them they'll be able to figure out a way back to school."

"Erm, Freddie… I think you forgot about something," George started, glancing at a point just beyond Fred's shoulder in the corridor. "Well, more like someone, really," he said, pointing at the space he had been staring at.

Standing there, in all of her Gryffindor glory, was Hermione Granger. Uniform already on, hair brushed as neatly as she could fasten it into a half ponytail, arms crossed, foot tapping, and a bemused expression on her face.

"I'd certainly say he did, George. Frederick, _darling,_ care to accompany me for a stroll?" She asked, smirking all the while at the flush that had crept up Fred's neck and spread onto his cheeks as he realized that he had forgotten that Hermione was, in fact, on the train already. He gulped audibly before nodding his head and following the girl in front of him as she turned and headed towards her carriage, presumably.

* * *

Several hours later, a terrified looking throng of first years was led into the Great Hall, and Hermione scanned the crowd for the red-headed girl she had become acquainted with on the train ride. Finally locating the youngest Weasley, she sent a small smile and a thumbs up, and saw the girl relax slightly as she waited for her name. Minutes later, Hermione was surrounded by raucous cheering as 'Weasley, Ginevra' was sorted into Gryffindor, her brothers instigating cheers and whoops loud enough to drown out the rest of the table's polite celebrations.

"We always knew you had it in you, Ginger!" Fred winked at his sister as she sat down across from him, having decided that Hermione was a safer person to interact with.

"Yeah, ever since we found the door to the broom shed left ajar last summer, we knew you'd be a good fit," George joked. At this, Ginny paled and sputtered on her drink.

"Wait, wha-how did yo-you couldn't have figured it…"

Fred and George exchanged a knowing look before turning back to their sister. "Well, not exactly, no," George began.

"But you did just effectively confirm our suspicions," Fred finished, with a wide grin. "Don't worry, we won't tell Mum. Or anyone else, for that matter. Just wait until the next time the whole family plays and we get to use you as a secret weapon!"

Ginny blushed furiously and focused on eating again, as Fred continued.

"Anyways, we're glad you're here Gin. Before the whole shed development, I pegged you for Hufflepuff, same for Ronniekins, actually, now that I think of it."

Hermione bit back a snort and lightly cuffed Fred on the shoulder.

"C'mon now, Ronald isn't all that bad!"

Both twins looked at her in surprise, George because he remembered hearing some of the things that his younger brother had said about Hermione, and Fred because he had seen the effect those statements had made on Hermione first-hand. They knew that she had become friends with him and Harry, but they didn't expect her to jump to his defense so fiercely, unless…

"What's this I hear, Georgie?"

"Is it Granger defending our littlest brother?"

"Smart man, you. Now where do you supposed she's gone and gotten the idea that Ronniekins deserved defending?"

"Well it couldn't've been from our sister here, that's for sure, Freddie." Ginny blushed profusely and stared intently at her plate, hoping the twins wouldn't bring her into this conversation as well.

"I agree with you there, but then, where would such an idea have come from?"

Fred pretended to stroke his beard before animatedly mimicking a revelation.

"You don't suppose-" he began.

"Our favorite first-er, second-year-" George continued.

"Fancies our dunderhead of a brother?" They said together, looking expectantly at Hermione with large grins plastered on their faces.

To her credit, Hermione only blushed five shades darker than her regular skin tone, rather than ten, and responded very diplomatically.

"No, I just don't think it fair to pick on someone who's absent and has no way of defending him or herself." She said primly, hoping that the blush had faded from her skin a bit. It had not. If anything, her cheeks flamed brighter than before, and as he watched the girl attempt to behave normally, Fred felt a weight drop in his stomach. _Merlin, you've got it bad, Freddie-boy_ , his thoughts, narrated by his twin, reminded him. _She likes Ron, and he's much more logical of a choice for her than you. Get over her!_ Fred shook his head distractedly and averted his twin's curious expression, tuning back in to the conversation just in time to hear his sister ask:

"Where are Ron and uh… Harry, anyhow?"

* * *

A few weeks later, Ronald and Ginny had dragged Hermione to the Quidditch pitch to observe the Gryffindor practice.

"It'll be great this year, they've got Oliver Wood, the Terrible Trio, the Twins, _and_ Harry, we're bound to win the cup!" Ron gloated.

Hermione sighed, and looked up from the book she was reading. "The Terrible Trio, Ron, really?" He nodded vigorously. "I assume you're referring to Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, then?" More nods of assent. Hermione shook her head and turned back to her book, eager to focus on the intriguing plotline of _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , her mother's choice read for her this school year.

She was only about halfway through the chapter she had begun when Ron poked her harshly in the shoulder in an attempt to get her attention.

"Looks like something's happening on the ground over there, let's go find out." Ron stated.

Hermione neglected to move from her seat for a moment, choosing instead to peer over the side of the stands only to see a practical face-off occurring between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams. Shaking her head at the inanity of house rivalries, she began packing her things and preparing to leave, Ron's attempts to rush her doing nothing to speed up the process.

Hermione and the two youngest Weasleys descended from the stands, and approached the group cautiously, catching some remarks about Gryffindor having the pitch and Snape having reserved it so the team could practice with their newest member. Hermione had trailed behind Ron on the way down from the stands, and as they approached, she wasn't able to see who was at the center of the Slytherin pack, she carefully edged around Ron's shoulder only to see Draco Malfoy standing there, the smug expression on his face dripping with an air of superiority and privilege.

Ron and Hermione heard Harry mutter incredulously, "Malfoy?" as the boy revealed himself from the middle of their ranks.

"That's right. And that's not all that's new this year." The Slytherin continued.

Ron eyed the team's brooms and gasped. "Those are Nimbus 2001's! How did you get those?"

A member of the team chimed in smugly, "A gift from Draco's father."

Draco smirked at his teammate and then turned to face Ron and Hermione. "See, Weasley, unlike some, my father can afford the best."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Hermione interjected, tired of the elitist attitude Malfoy had, and angry that he had the gall to insult the Weasley family in such a way. _Then again_ , she thought, after considering the altercation she had witnessed in Diagon Alley a few weeks previously, _like father like son._

Draco stepped out from the team of Slytherins and walked towards Hermione, intoning his words very carefully, so she would hear the intended effect of each one.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood."

Hermione heard a gasp and at a brief glance, saw Fred and George's faces contort in anger, before she looked back at Draco, only to hear Ron say "You'll pay for that one Malfoy! Eat Slugs!" before being blasted backwards by the effects of his own spell.

The Slytherin team laughed in the background as Hermione rushed towards Ron, Harry and the rest of the team in close pursuit.

A quick analysis of the slimy creature that had spilled out of Ron's mouth led Hermione to the conclusion that his spell had backfired, and as Harry helped him onto his feet, he suggested going to see Hagrid to remedy the situation, a solution that Hermione was inherently grateful of, eager to get away from the concerned eyes of a certain red-headed twin.

* * *

A few days later, Hermione was sitting in the common room reading on one of the fluffy armchairs near the fire. She had just gotten to the trial for Tom Robinson when she heard a shuffling noise, and a light cough behind her.

She put a bookmark in her novel before gently placing it down on the seat next to her and twisting from her position to see who had come to interrupt her.

Fred Weasley stood there, alone, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, and seeming for all the world as if someone had forced his hand to approach her at all.

"Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are you going to talk? I was in the middle of a particularly intriguing chapter, you know." She stated jokingly, not enjoying the somber countenance on his face. She hadn't seen him with that sort of a look since the Trio's adventures last May with the Philosopher's Stone, and she wasn't fond of the way worry graced his normally carefree expression.

"Granger," he started, and then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, all the while refusing to make eye contact with her, "Are you…alright?"

Her stomach did a strange sort of flip when she heard the concern in his voice, but she brushed that to the side as she responded. "Of course, I'm fine, Fred. Why wouldn't I be?" She looked at him intently, as if daring him to shift his eyes to meet hers.

Again, Fred looked elsewhere, before seating himself carefully on the sofa. Hermione felt her heart rate climb- Fred never acted careful, especially not around her. He was carefree, jubilant and reckless, not careful. What was going on here?

"I meant about the things Malfoy said to you at the Quidditch pitch, Hermione." Fred stated as he finally lifted his eyes and looked at her.

Hermione stiffened in her chair almost imperceptibly. "Oh, that's just Malfoy, he's an elitist git, and everybody knows it. I didn't take any of it to heart. Honestly, I'm not even sure what he meant by that anyhow. 'Mudblood?'" Fred cringed on the sofa as she continued, "I mean, if that's his version of an insult, then it's rather crude, don't you think?"

Fred looked at Hermione curiously, trying to figure out if she was lying or not.

"You realize what he said to you was a serious slur, right?" He asked gently. A pregnant pause followed, before Hermione responded.

"…...yes…"

"No one told you, did they? Merlin, did Ron even think to explain to you why he-" Fred stopped himself and colored slightly before pressing on, "No, forget that. Mione, that's like… I can't quite think of a comparable muggle term, I'm not familiar enough. It's this terribly derogatory, discriminating term that old wizarding families used to use to describe those of lesser magical status than them in a demeaning fashion. It's fallen out of use, mainly because most pureblood families have come to an understanding that muggleborns are just as capable of wizards as we are. It's a terribly rude term to use, it's like a foul name or-" he paused for a moment, searching for the right description.

"Or like a racial slur." Hermione finished for him. "It's like people using a derogatory term to describe a group of people who have a different skin tone as them, except it's with magical blood. My magical blood, and by extension, status in the wizarding world, is considered inferior because it's been tainted by muggle blood, whereas the blood and status of people like Malfoy, or Ron, or the rest of your family is purer and thus superior." She stated with a fierce amount of bitterness, suddenly gaining a unique perspective on the Tom Robinson case that she had been interrupted from reading.

Fred looked on at her concernedly, scanning her face for signs of distress, instead finding a resigned sadness. "Mione?"

"In America, they've been fighting this kind of discrimination for years, did you know that Fred?" The redhead sitting across from her shook his head violently. "They had a whole war over it, I mean, some historians like to argue it was about state's rights, but everyone knows that they're just trying to save face, and all it came down to was a declaration on whether or not a person's skin color made them eligible or ineligible for citizenship. It was despicable. And here we are, doing the same thing, only with blood status. It's repulsive."

Fred nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm afraid it is. There's not many to subscribe to those sorts of beliefs anymore though, which is a good thing. They're a dying breed, Blood Supremacists. But they're still there, and I'm sorry you had to be confronted with that reality in such a harsh way. I'll have you know that us Weasleys are proud bloodtraitors, shaming elitist purebloods everywhere with our tendency to accept everyone who comes to our door: purebloods, halfbloods, muggleborns, squibs and muggles alike." Fred smiled gently at her. "I think Malfoy's problem probably has something to do with the fact that in his eyes, you shouldn't be able to best him in every subject, and yet here you are, doing exactly that, and making Gryffindor house increasingly proud every day."

Hermione smiled back at Fred for the first time in their conversation, and for a moment, Fred thought that everything would be alright if they could stay right where they were for just a little bit longer, warm and safe in each other's presence, contented to do nothing more than co-exist.

* * *

Hermione was in the library the next time Fred spoke to her, her head bent over a large book, errant hairs falling from her haphazard bun onto the page and being swatted back by a hand stained with ink spots.

"What's the topic today?" a voice sounded from behind her, startling her into knocking over her inkpot.

"Fred, what are you doing here?" She asked as she set to cleaning up the quickly spreading black mess on the table. Fred whisked out his wand, and with a muttered incantation, the ink had vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of iron as a trace. Hermione blush was prominent in her face as she muttered something about old habits dying hard.

"Well, my most delightful and dedicated friend, I was, in fact, looking for you. Harry and Ron told me you had been pretty eager to 'do some research' after seeing the warning on the wall, and I wanted to check and make sure you were doing alright." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous tic of a habit he seemed to have adopted when he felt awkward around her. It was late, after all, and he didn't exactly want Hermione to know exactly how concerned he had been about her wellbeing.

"I'm _fine,_ Fred _._ " Hermione stated curtly, which prompted Fred to sit down across from her and quickly pull her notes away before she could stop him.

"In _that_ case, you certainly won't mind my having a glance at your research then, will you? I'm just dying to know what you've come across."

The words "CHAMBER OF SECRETS" were written in capital letters across the top of the parchment, with hasty notes scrawled underneath, bits and pieces of phrases about the founders, or daintily sketched blueprints of the various wings of Hogwarts.

"Hermione," Fred started, eager to get to the bottom of this sudden interest in researching the Chamber. He knew that she would want to get more information, he would've been concerned if she hadn't wanted to do so, but so soon after an attack, she must've picked up on something else that the boys had not. "Why? I mean, I know you want to know more, but why now? Why couldn't this have waited?"

"It said 'enemies of the heir beware' Fred. In blood. Now I don't know about you, but I don't really imagine Helga Hufflepuff or Rowena Ravenclaw establishing a great many enemies, which leaves us with Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin," Fred nodded his agreement, even though he wasn't entirely sure where Hermione was trying to go with this.

"Now, those two founders were particularly contentious to begin with, but after Slytherin's break from the other three, he and Gryffindor became bitter rivals, near enemies. Technically, either of them could've been the founder referenced in the message, however given Slytherin's propensity for blood status-based elitism, and the fact that blood was used to write the message, it would make the most sense that it's a warning for those who are enemies of the heir of Slytherin, meaning any students who aren't Purebloods are targets. The Chamber of Secrets was supposedly created by Slytherin when the founders were erecting the school, however according to _Hogwarts, A History_ , he never mentioned where it was or how to access it, which leaves little to no argument that he hid something in it that he didn't want the other founders knowing about, probably something dangerous or imbued with dark magic."

Fred saw it now, the tension in her shoulders, the crease in her lip from biting it subconsciously for the last who-knew-how-many hours, the fear and desperation that tinged her gaze as she looked at him, expecting an argument.

"Do you suppose that figuring out who the heir of Slytherin is would be useful?" Fred asked, eager to show his support for the girl before him, even if he wasn't quite sure how to.

Hermione rolled her eyes uncharacteristically before muttering, "I think it would've been, if Ronald and Harry weren't so dead set on the idea that it's Malfoy. They've gotten it in their heads that it has to be him, and they won't entertain any other possibilities, which is really quite close-minded of them, if I'm being honest."

"Sounds like my brother alright," Fred joked, hoping to lighten the mood, and to his credit, the girl opposite him cracked a smile before rubbing the bridge of her nose in exhaustion. "Hermione, d'you think it's time to head off to bed? Or maybe to the kitchens for some food at least? You've been in here since the feast, and to be entirely honest with you, you look like you could use some rest," he said gently, in an attempt to get Hermione to give in to the desire to sleep that he could see burgeoning in her.

Hermione yawned involuntarily before rubbing the corners of her eyes delicately and nodding. Closing the book in front of her, she stood up, pulled out her wand, and magically sent the book back to its rightful place on the shelf while gathering up her notes and supplies.

As she moved to exit the library, she became aware of an arm casually slung across her shoulders, as well as a strange tingling feeling in her stomach, which she attempted rather unsuccessfully to dismiss. A slight shiver went down her spine, and she sensed Fred leaning down to whisper in her ear before he had said anything at all.

"I won't let anything happen to you Mione, not if I can help it."

* * *

A week later, Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor stands of the Quidditch pitch, anxiously hoping that this year of playing would be safer for Harry. So far he had flown marvelously, and so Hermione let her mind drift to the potion brewing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Brewing the Polyjuice itself wasn't the tricky part, Hermione thought distractedly, it was going to be getting close enough to get hair from the three Slytherin students. She thought for a moment as Ron cheered next to her, before it hit her. Food! Of course. That would take care of the two boys, but what was she going to do about Millicent Bulstrode? Maybe she'd lure her into a classroom or something. In an instant, however, Hermione's attention was drawn back to the Quidditch pitch. The noise in the Gryffindor section was swelling, and she glanced at the team before her, intent on determining what was happening. As she scanned the pitch for Harry, she noticed a bludger following him, but thought nothing of it, as they normally tailed every player for periods during the game. After lazily skipping her focus from one Gryffindor player to the next – and trying studiously to avoid lingering on a certain redhead for too long – she returned her gaze to her friend, only to catch sight of the bludger following him again.

"Ron, is that normal?" She asked her friend as the crowd quieted a bit. He turned slightly to face her with a quizzical expression, but his face darkened as he followed the path of her subtle gesture towards Harry.

"Not that I've ever seen. I grew up playing with Fred and George, and they're wicked players but they've never been able to manipulate a bludger into tailing someone. It's obviously been tampered with, but apparently none of the Professors think it's an issue, and they're refusing to stop the game. That's what all of the uproar has been about in the stands."

Hermione frowned as she looked back to the pitch. Harry seemed to have spotted the snitch, if his facial expression and increase in velocity meant anything. He disappeared behind the curtains of the pitch with Malfoy, and Hermione felt her heart jump into her throat as she saw the bludger pierce the curtains in its single-minded pursuit. As she evaluated whether or not she could help Harry, suddenly an emerald-clad body tumbled out from behind the checkered fabric, and Hermione couldn't help but gasp as a hand flew up to her mouth. Malfoy sputtered a bit on the ground and looked as if he might be ill, but he was moving, and Hermione calmed a bit, having initially thought the worst—even if he was downright cruel to her, she wouldn't have wished harm on him.

A mess of dark hair popped out from across the pitch, and as Hermione tracked the figure, her eyes widened as she saw the bludger swing around from Harry's right side and turned into Ron at the anticipated impact. When she glanced back, her friend was clutching his right arm to his chest and grasping into the air for the nearly invisible snitch, before swinging to the underside of his broom and being propelled backwards into the sand of the pitch.

Moving before she could assess the damage, Hermione grabbed Ron's wrist and practically dragged him down to the field. Their fellow Gryffindors were cheering behind them at the win, but Hermione paid little attention as she rushed towards Harry, Ron following close behind. By the time they reached their friend, Hermione saw, Professor Lockhart had begun his lecture on the prowess he professed for healing spells, and before anyone could step in and suggest a trip to Madame Pomfrey, he had recited some nonsense that appeared to liquify Harry's arm. Hermione groaned quietly as Professor McGonagall helped Harry to his feet and ushered him back towards the castle, and competent healthcare services.

"We'll be discussing that later, I assume?" Ron questioned, as the two began the walk back to their dorm.

Hermione nodded silently and appraised the pitch one last time with suspicion before turning on her heel to face the castle again.

* * *

"I just can't believe it! A parselmouth—Harry—and he didn't even know it!" Hermione exclaimed, pacing the kitchens as she had been wont to do in recent weeks.

"I don't know if I've heard of anyone who speaks it in our generation. The last I knew, Slytherin himself could do it, but I wouldn't imagine it's a terribly marketable trait…Did he just start hissing and spitting? Maybe he was telling it a joke, like ' _Hey buddy, you should really think about a career in civil serpents_ ' or something?" Fred asked, sipping his butterbeer calmly and attempting to lighten the mood.

Hermione attempted to stifle her giggle and failed miserably, resulting in a minor eruption of her drink from her nose. She turned away blushing and wiped her face of the liquid before responding. "It's not like any of us could make it out, for all we know he could've politely asked it to please move away from the students—after all, Harry did say that he tried to get it away from Justin, but it could've been Ancient Greek for all that the rest of us could understand. It's just unnerving that he had a skill like that all along and he didn't know it. I'll bet it means something, I just can't put my finger on what it is yet."

Fred could practically see the gears turning in her mind and stopped her as she attempted to pass him and the table for the 19th time that night.

"How about you sit down and tell me what you and the boys are planning this week—oh don't look at me like that, you're rubbish at hiding your facial expressions, and Ron is even worse at keeping secrets. I know you three are up to something, so let's hear it. Spying? Pranking? Vandalism?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fred and he grinned, knowing he'd won. Draining the last of his butterbeer, he crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, interested to see how much the girl before him would actually reveal, knowing her fierce loyalty would prevent her from divulging the entire plan.

"I've been working for about three weeks on a prototype of a potion for the three of us to try on Thursday night. We're hoping it'll give us some insight on what's happening or at least clear up some of the rumors circling around in the dorm." She stated matter-of-factly, avoiding eye contact as she explained.

Fred's eyes went wide as he stared at Hermione.

"You _wouldn't_. I can't believe it. I never would've guessed that Ron would be the first of us to try it. Blimey, Hermione, I'm impressed. That potion is miserably finicky to get right."

Hermione blanched. "You know what I'm brewing? How can you—I didn't say what it was, or any of the ingredients, or instructions, or—"

"If I may remind you, you're talking to one of Hogwart's most infamous pranksters. George and I have debated whether or not to delve into transformative potionwork quite a few times. We nearly tried once in our second year before realizing there was no way Snape wouldn't suspend us if we stole Polyjuice ingredients from his cabinet. I remember how long that thing takes to brew, as I said, I'm impressed that you've done it."

Fully aware of the pink tint spreading to her cheeks, Hermione dropped her head to hide the coloring, and mumbled something about it not being all _that_ impressive. Fred shook his head and chuckled quietly. _All that talent and she's_ _ **still**_ _trying to divert the attention away from it._

"Do you know what I'm going to tell you?" He asked as he vanished their now-empty mugs.

Hermione had a curious expression on her face as she lifted it to make eye contact.

"Don't do anything you wouldn't do?" she suggested cheekily, grinning at him.

Fred smiled at the response and chuckled, "Not exactly, no. That's a good guess though." He paused to study her for a moment. "I was going to tell you to be careful. I know you're a brilliant witch, but from what I understand, this Chamber of Secrets business could be rather dangerous. I'm sure you'll be fine but just…take care, alright? Make wise choices." He looked down, uncharacteristically sheepish before adding, "I worry about you, sometimes, you know?"

Hermione beamed a bit at the seemingly casual acknowledgement of her intellect and felt her heart swell at the concern evident in her friend's face. Before she had fully processed the other emotions swirling inside of her, she was hugging Fred fiercely and whispering "thank you" into his sweater. He settled his arms around her cautiously, as if by holding her too tightly he would damage their friendship, and smiled before relaxing into the hug.

"It's my honor and duty to care, 'Mione. I took that on a year ago, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon." He said over the top of her head as she tightened her grip on him. "Just take care of yourself, alright? I don't suppose I'll be seeing you again before the holidays, what with exams and all, but I expect to hear a full analysis of the experiment as soon as you've got yourself some results—for purely academic purposes, of course." He smirked as she drew away and glared at him teasingly.

"I'm supposed to visit my family during the holidays," Hermione started, "But I suppose I could spare a few minutes of my time to write a detailed description of my conclusions—again, for purely academic reasons—and owl it to you." He grinned as they began moving towards the door in tandem, having heard the clock ring out for midnight, the two simultaneously decided it was time to head to the dormitory.

Once they returned to the common room, Hermione began up the steps to the girls' rooms when Fred stopped her by calling her name.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Fred?"

"Write soon, okay? And if I don't see you before, have a nice holiday." He blushed slightly, endearing himself to her further as he sent her a gentle smile.

"Of course, and Fred? That goes for you too," she said as she turned and quietly snuck up the staircase.

And yet, despite all their promises and well-wishes, neither student would speak to the other for a month.

* * *

A/N: Nothing like a good almost-two-year hiatus to get you in the mood, am I right? I'd say I'm sorry for the lack of updates, but life happens, and at some point I definitely warned you all that my updates would be infrequent. (Didn't exactly predict _this_ long of a break but que sera, sera, yeah?) Anyhow, I don't have any of the next few chapters typed up (they are loosely outlined though, so that's a plus…I think?) but I _did_ finalize some plans I have for year seven, so if nothing else, I know what I'm working toward. Hopefully I can make some decent progress on this guy this summer, but if not, I apologize to all 292 of you who are probably shocked to see that I updated this story and are expecting well-scheduled weekly updates.

Sorry if this felt a bit like a filler chapter (or if you can tell where I left off two years ago and picked up yesterday lol), I know I mentioned last time that book two was where the plot really started to develop, and I promise we're getting there, but I'm currently attempting to wade through the current plot with enough detail to give you an idea of where we are, but also not so much that it's irrelevant. Hopefully that's working, but again, sorry if this chapter didn't feel like you got as many major moments as you were hoping (I promise that the next one has some decent fluffiness ).

As always, reviews are much appreciated (especially since I feel like it's been decades since I've written anything fun like this), so if you have thoughts feel free to share—preferably constructive ones though, I'd rather not feel the need to begin the next chapter addressing a nasty comment.

All this to say, I hope you enjoyed, I hope you're excited, and I hope to have an update again sometime soon!

Next time on _Left Unsupervised_ : Hermione finally gets the chance to evaluate the wizarding healthcare services offered by Hogwarts, Fred has some feelings, Ron and Harry go do brave stuff, and Ginny is in all of the wrong places at all of the wrong times.


	7. Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun (Pt 2 of 2)

A/N: What? Me updating? Who would've guessed!

We start getting into the good stuff here (Not that the rest of this story has been bad…? Don't know why I said it like that hahaha) regarding the Fred/Hermione relationship so I hope you're all excited!

On second thought, maybe I need to turn my own excitement down a bit. Either way, there's some good stuff coming in this chapter (and also an entire HALF OF A BOOK so buckle up, it's going to be a wild ride) that I hope you enjoy!

Friendly reminder that not all plot points are coming straight from the books/movies (*cough cough* this chapter is where I start messing with mostly minor plot points, so consider this your warning *cough cough*), and that the alteration/omission/inclusion of the ones that I _do_ use is intentional, I promise.

As always, I own nothing, I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I'm not British.

* * *

 **First Day After the Winter Holidays:**

"Hey Georgie, did you see Granger at the feast last night?"

"Was I supposed to be looking for her?"

Fred cuffed his brother on the shoulder teasingly, blushing slightly as his twin smirked at him.

"No, but I thought maybe I had missed her."

George grinned, his brother really had given him the perfect setup, "Well you clearly _missed_ her, but no, I didn't see her last night either," he said as his brother groaned.

"Strange…I wonder if her vacation ran later than expected."

 **Second Day After the Winter Holidays:**

"Still no Granger, eh Forge?" George poked his fork into a sausage link on his twin's plate as he slid into his seat. Looking bemusedly over at his brother as he munched, he lowered his voice, "You'd better take the discretion up a few notches if you don't want people to realize you're head over heels with her though."

At this, Fred nearly fell off of his seat. "You… I don't know what you're talking about." Seeing a mirror of his own disbelieving expression, Fred sighed.

"How long have you known?"

"Well, I'd be exaggerating if I said from the moment you decided to approach her when she was crying last year in the common room, but it was probably closer to when I tracked you two on the map to the kitchens a few weeks later… And every two weeks after then. Or maybe when I saw you writing letters over the summer and hastily covering them up with notes from Charms lectures. You really ought to have thought better of that one, both of us know that you don't take notes in Charms. Whose notes even were those?" George smirked.

"Percy's," Fred snorted, "I figured the git would have a right meltdown if the notes from his OWLs went missing." The two shared a chuckle at their older brother's expense, before Fred sobered.

"I haven't heard from her at all since we last spoke. That's not like her. She promised she'd write."

"Why don't you ask our darling younger brother? He spends enough time with her and Harry, I bet he knows where she is. Here, let me call him over—"

George's summons was cut off by his twin's hand clapping over his mouth.

"I can't ask Ron, he'll pick up on it," Fred hissed as he released his brother from his grasp. George massaged his jaw for a minute, scowling at Fred as he weighed the statement.

"I don't think he's capable of picking up on emotional signs like that, but whatever you'd like, I suppose," he said as he turned back to his breakfast and began eating.

 _Where_ _ **is**_ _she?_ Fred wondered as he too focused on his meal. _I told her to be careful, didn't I?_

 **Third Day After the Winter Holidays:**

"—their common room practically oozes slime, did you know that? It's all cold and dark and damp," Ron rambled as he took another large bite of food and turned towards Harry, "I don't know about you, but I was glad that the two of us were only in there for ten minutes."

Fred and George exchanged glances. "What's this I hear? Did our little brother go on an adventure to the Slytherin Commons? Who'd have guessed it—did you, Freddie?"

Fred shook his head silently, waiting for one of the two boys to mention their female counterpart.

"Wouldn't have seen it coming, George. _Our_ little brother? Not a chance," he smirked half-heartedly.

"Fred, I've never agreed with you more. It certainly takes some cunning to sneak in down there. Then again, they _do_ have Hermione," Fred stiffened as George made eye contact with him and almost imperceptibly gestured his eyes towards Ron as he continued. "Where was the brains of the operation while you two were off gallivanting in the dungeons, anyhow—playing lookout? Now that I think of it, I haven't seen her yet, and it's the end of the first day of classes. Where'd she disappear off to?"

Fred focused intently on his food, deliberately trying to avoid looking at his two brothers as he waited anxiously to hear Ron's response.

"Didn't you know? I figured Ginny would've said something on the train ride back. She's been in the Hospital Wing all Holiday. Something went wrong with her poti—" Ron suddenly choked on the food in his mouth as Harry elbowed him and interrupted.

"What Ron was trying to say is that she fell ill with a pretty serious virus that muggle children usually get around our age right before we were meant to go. Madame Pomfrey was adamant that she stay in the Hospital Wing for observation," Harry concluded as Ron struggled to regain his breath.

Fred had blanched noticeably by this point, and stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag and making an excuse about having left his quills back in the dorms before hastily leaving the Great Hall.

A contented grin slid its way onto George's face as his younger brother and Harry resumed their previous conversation about Slytherin's dorms. _An open book Freddie,_ he thought as he chuckled to himself, _I can read your face like an open book._

* * *

"IN THE HOSPITAL WING—"

"Fred, honestly, it's not that—"

"—FOR THE ENTIRE HOLIDAY—"

"Mr. Weasley, if you can't lower your voice, I'll have to—"

"MERLIN, HERMIONE!"

As the cacophony of "FRED" and " " hit his ears, the redhead in question had the decency to look sheepish and dramatically fall into the proffered chair next to Hermione's bed.

"I didn't mean for you to find out this way, Fred. I really thought I would be out by now, and it would all blow over, and no one would be the wiser..." Hermione offered shyly.

The initial anger having drained from his body, Fred took a moment to glance over the girl before him, checking for any obvious injuries as the school's healer walked away.

Sighing, he met her eyes as she silently observed him observing her. "Are you going to tell me what happened, at least?" Cheeks flushed instantly, and Fred felt his heart race as he waited for some form of terrible news to drip from her mouth.

"I made all three of us the potion, and it looked absolutely right—I mean it—I followed the directions to a 't,' had done additional research on common pitfalls of the brewing process, and had detailed notations on what the proper coloring, scents, and stirring directions were. I wagered it looked correct, and so each of the three of us dropped the hairs we had gotten from our respective Slytherins into our vials—Harry's was from Goyle, Ron's from Crabbe, and mine was from Millicent Bulstrode," at this she blushed further, "Or at least, I thought it was."

Fred looked at her curiously. "What do you mean, you thought it was? Was it not her hair?"

The brunette shook her head dismally. "Each of us had taken hairs from off of their robes, that way we wouldn't alert them by taking a hair from their head. I had assumed that the one I grabbed was hers, but it wasn't." Her voice quieted, "It, well…It belonged to her cat." Hermione dropped her head to avoid Fred's gaze.

"But…Polyjuice potions aren't meant to be used for animal transformations, are they?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, they're not. I realized it almost immediately and told the boys to go on up ahead of me, but when an hour came and went and I hadn't felt the shift back to my normal person, I knew I needed to go to Madame Pomfrey. I didn't, however, know that it would take nearly as long to reverse the effects as it took me to brew the potion."

Fred let out a low whistle as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands woven together. "But what about you? You're alright now? No lasting damage?" he asked, hoping that he didn't sound as worried as he was.

Hermione blushed further, "Beyond the blow to my pride, I don't think so." Fred looked up at her from his slightly bent position and noted that she was still refusing to make eye contact with him. Deciding to give her a moment to compose herself fully, he glanced at the bare furniture surrounding her bed. "You've been here all holiday, you said?" Hermione nodded, still avoiding Fred's eyes. "Where are the 'Get Well Soon' cards? There's no way your parents wouldn't have communicated with you."

Hermione blanched at this comment. "Well, you know how parents are, always overly concerned at a scratch on the knee or a bump on the head…If I had told my parents what actually happened, they would have pulled me right out of school, and I didn't want that, so I told them that Harry, Ron and I were working on an advanced project in charms so they wouldn't worry."

"But you told Harry and Ron what had happened? How did the two of them manage not to mention it over the entire holidays? Harry can't lie to my mum, and Ron's face gets red as a—"

"I didn't tell them," she interrupted, lowering her voice. Fred's eyes snapped to hers immediately, questioning her statement. "I left them a note in the lavatory telling them I hadn't felt well and needed to go home early, and they must not have thought much of it. They didn't know what had actually happened until I wrote them about a week ago. That's how you found out, I assume," she said quietly.

Fred schooled his face into a carefully crafted seriousness before solemnly stating, "If you think it would've taken me this long to come see you, you're sorely mistaken, 'Mione." The girl in question blushed profusely as the redhead in front of her smiled gently. "I only found out this evening at dinner, I came as quickly as I could after that."

Hermione didn't think it was possible for her face to get any warmer as her friend grabbed her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "You really didn't have to do that Fred, I really am perfectly fine. I'm sure the boys made it sound much worse than it was, you know how they—"

"I don't care how badly they made it out to be, Hermione, you were here for a month and I was worried. I care about you, you know that. I wasn't going to let a minute go by without finding out if you were truly alright or not. I've got to know that my favorite girl is okay," he said, and then colored a bit before adding, "although on second thought, maybe don't tell Gin I said that, okay?"

Hermione giggled at Fred's misspeak and squeezed his hand back. "Don't worry, I won't tell her."

When Madame Pomfrey returned to her patient's bedside, she was met with a sleeping Hermione and a drowsy looking Weasley, each still holding fast to the other's hand. Smiling to herself, she backed away and decided that the next checkup could wait until morning.

* * *

"Any good plans for Valentine's, Mione?" Fred inquired as the two made their way to the kitchens for their monthly chat.

Hermione stoically avoided her companion's curious eyes as she responded with a quiet, "No, why would I? It's never mattered to me before."

Not expecting such a sullen response, Fred deflated, having hoped the girl beside him would be free for a thrilling adventure or a ride around the Hogwarts grounds or a – _Merlin, I've got it bad_. As he considered a response, his own thoughts were interrupted by his conscience, seemingly voiced by his twin. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought of his brother _actually_ being in his mind, he spun around to face the girl beside him before they entered the room.

"And here I thought you chose this Thursday night to woo me into a date night tomorrow! I'm wounded, Granger, honestly," he said with a smirk as he finally saw an elusive grin begin to make its way onto her face. Tickling the pear, he attempted to school his face before he accidentally belied his true feelings to the girl now standing behind him.

"I wanted to talk about your sister," Hermione began.

"Well that's no way to start a date now is it?"

Hermione blushed profusely. "I-I never said that-You couldn't possibly have assumed-We've been doing this for over a year now, I promise I would never—"

"Relax Hermione, I'm pulling your arm," Fred said jokingly as he unceremoniously dropped himself onto a stool and conjured up two butterbeers.

"Leg. And anyhow, I mean it—"

"Leg? Is that some muggle slang I don't know about? Oooh let me try and guess what it means? Let's go? Let me go? Allegro," He murmured, "Faster? Or maybe it stands for something – Lovely Elven Games? Let's Everyone Go? Leave Everything Grimy? Blimey, 'Mione, I didn't realize muggles were so against housework."

Hermione tried and failed to repress a smile as she sat down gracefully on the stool opposite Fred. "It's how the phrase goes. You'd say that you're 'pulling someone's leg,' not their arm. That just wouldn't make any sense."

"And pulling someone's leg does? For all of your intellect, Hermione, you've lost me on that one," Fred finished, grinning at the clear exasperation written on the face of the woman beside him.

"I meant it though—I really do want to talk about your sister," she began. "I think something's off."

"After 11 years of living in a house with six older brothers, I'd expect her to be a little off. Can't be much stranger than the usual, can it?" Fred glanced at his friend's face, having hoped to see a smile but instead being met with a slight frown. "But for the purposes of this conversation, yes," he sighed, "I'll admit that she hasn't been herself lately. I assumed it was the first-year blues, if I'm being honest, but when they didn't go away after the Holidays I got suspicious."

"And you have no idea what could have caused it?" Hermione queried, staring pensively into her glass. "She just doesn't feel the same as the girl I met on the train, I mean, she's been so quiet and withdrawn, and between you and Ron and George everything I'd ever heard about her was that she was as lively as the rest of you-" Hermione paused to rest her chin on her hand. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"I wish I could clue you in to what's going on, but I have very little expertise in understanding women. Obviously, or else I wouldn't still be listed in the Teen Witch Weekly _Top Ten Teen Bachelors_ edition," he winked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes back at him as she shook her head amusedly.

"I just wish I knew what was going on, or how I could help. I know I don't know her all that well, but I'd feel terrible if she was going through a hard time and no one was willing to help her," at this Hermione looked pointedly at her feet and bit her lip gently.

"Hey now, you're doing a very kind thing here, 'Mione. The fact that you say you don't know her well but still care is evidence of that alone. But you ought to know that she's not alone, not really. I know George and I take the mickey out of her sometimes, and Ron is an all-around prat, but if it came down to it, she knows that we're here for her. We'd never let anything happen to her, not if we could help it," he said passionately. "That's our baby sister. Us Weasleys don't take well to familial distress—even if it does end up being related to an idiot breaking our sister's heart." Hermione smiled at this and again shook her head in mock disbelief.

"Such dramatists, the lot of you," her face sobered for a moment, "I just hope you're right."

* * *

"Tell me again what we're looking for?"

"Harry said that "the diary told him" what happened 50 years ago, but he refused to tell me and Ron what it said, so I decided I was going to find out myself."

"Ah yes. The "diary" told him. How exactly does that work? Is it like a howler?" Fred joked, as Hermione shot her best scowl at him.

"This is serious, Fred. Harry said that the last time the Chamber was opened, someone _died_ , but he wouldn't give me any more details, and I don't know if that's because he didn't know or didn't want to tell me, but either way, I need to get to the bottom of it, so I decided to come here myself and clear up this confusion once and for all." She paused to take a breath. "And, I really hate not knowing things."

Fred chuckled at this, glad to see that his friend at least had enough of a sense of humor to poke some fun at herself. "Well, I must say, I'm infinitely glad to see that you hadn't come to the library in an ill-fated and obsessive pursuit of knowledge about ancient magic that could turn out to be deadly. Proud of you for having such strong common sense."

Hermione again shot a dirty look at Fred. "Easy for you to say. You're not a Muggleborn. You're not really at risk here."

Fred nearly tipped over his chair at those words. He swallowed carefully before attempting to choose the right words for his response. "I hadn't thought of that, 'Mione."

The girl across from him huffed in annoyance. "Well that's the problem. No one has. Everyone keeps trying to make blanket statements about "no one being safe" when we all know it's the Muggleborns who are in the most danger."

"You're scared." Fred stated bluntly, pulling his chair up to the table and crossing his arms.

"Wouldn't you be?" Hermione challenged. "There's someone or something in the castle, terrorizing students like me for a blood status that we have no control over." She huffed irritably. "Oh, and let's not forget, we know nothing about who or what this thing is that's lurking in the castle. The professors don't seem to know, or else they'd have given us more specific warnings than "stay safe" and "don't walk alone in the evenings," we've got less knowledge of magical creatures by nature of growing up in muggle homes, and even if we _did_ have some idea of what we were facing, for goodness sakes, we're 13 years old! I'm not qualified to fly a broom, let alone fight off a magical beast."

Hermione shuffled her notes to the side as she sighed, "It's just...rather a lot, you know? Last year, Ron and Harry and I had some idea of what we were facing up against. This year, we've got nothing—I've got nothing—and it's driving me mad."

Frowning, Hermione resignedly re-aligned her parchment and picked up her quill again, and Fred watched silently as she knocked a small circular item off the table. Reaching his hand out to catch the item, he held it in his hands for a moment, examining the clasp, before popping it open to see a mirror reflecting his face back to him. His gaze shifted to the other half of the compact, where a photo of Ron, Harry, and Hermione was folded to fit the shape, and a small smile made its way to his face.

"This is a nice little mirror you've got Hermione," Fred said quietly, holding it up with one hand as he watched the girl across from him.

"My mum gave it to me before I left this year. She knows I'm not much of a jewelry person, but she wanted me to have an opportunity to look at a fond memory as often as I pleased and figured a compact would be a bit more versatile than a picture frame. It's a magical compact too—I don't quite know how she did it, but she managed to get it so the picture changes every so often. There's one of my parents and I, of Crookshanks napping next to me, of—"

"Ron and Harry and you, yeah, I see that," Fred said with a small smile, his heart clenching a bit at the fact that he wasn't featured in her set of photos. He handed it over, avoiding her eyes, and mumbled "that was nice of her to do for you," before yawning loudly.

"Fred, you're tired. Go get some sleep." Hermione said, not looking up from the textbook before her.

"Alas, my dear, marvelous, magical 'Mione, I cannot. I vowed to myself that I would escort you back to the common room, and such a vow must not be trifled with."

A wan smile made its way onto Hermione's face. "Honestly Fred, I'll be fine. You've had your quidditch practice already, you've got to be exhausted—Harry's told me how hard Wood is working you all, don't try and deny it—just go to bed. Penelope Clearwater is somewhere in the Arithmancy section anyhow, if you're that worried about me. I'll have her "escort" me up to the dorms, if you insist."

Fred eyed the girl before him warily. "You're sure?" He asked, his question punctuated by another large yawn. "I mean it, I've got no problem staying down here if you want company or help or—" as the third yawn in as many minutes broke free from his throat, Hermione raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Alright alright, I see your point. Be safe, okay? I would hate for anything to happen to you because I wasn't chivalrous enough to jump to your defense," he said, winking as he stood up.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Good night, Fred. See you tomorrow."

"Night, 'Mione." Fred said as he turned to exit the library. As her friend departed, Hermione sighed and turned back to _Most Macabre Monstrosities,_ fiddling with the mirror in her left hand as she annotated the parchment with her right.

* * *

Hermione wasn't at breakfast the next morning. Neither was Penelope Clearwater, for that matter. Fred looked around the Great Hall anxiously. Harry and his brother seemed normal enough, Harry looked tired, but so did all of the Gryffindor quidditch team. Oliver had spouted some nonsense about keeping in shape even though all further games had been cancelled, and the whole team had begrudgingly accepted two hours of conditioning before retiring for the day.

Still no Hermione, though. _Perhaps she slept in?_ Fred thought as he took a bite of his food. _In that case, maybe I should snag her some toast._ As he was about to reach for a piece of bread, he saw Professor McGonagall approach the table, and whisper something to Harry and Ron before the two boys stood and followed her, paling as they did so.

"That doesn't look good, does it?" George joked from next to him.

 _No, it doesn't._ Thought Fred. _It certainly doesn't indeed._

As classes went on, Fred found his mind wandering to where Hermione had been that morning. It wasn't like her to skip meals, especially not breakfast—he'd been around long enough to hear her lecture about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day. As lunch drew nearer, he compiled a list of questions he could ask that wouldn't reveal how concerned he was, starting with "long night, eh?" and ending somewhere down the line with a bad quidditch joke. Mentally preparing himself for the blushing chuckle he'd get from Hermione, Fred walked into the Great Hall and immediately knew something was wrong. Hermione was still absent, for starters. Then, Ron and Harry were furtively discussing something near Neville, Ginny, and Parvati, and shooting anxious looks around them in fear of being overheard. George looked paler than he had when Ginny fell off her broom on his watch a few years back, and as he looked up to the staff table, he saw a grim expression on Professor McGonagall's face.

Striding quickly to the table, Fred locked eyes with his twin and silently demanded an explanation.

"Hermione's in the Hospital Wing again, Fred," he murmured quietly. "She was petrified."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Fred's mood took a turn for the worse. Blaming himself for Hermione's current state, he couldn't bring himself to visit the Hospital Wing for days. When he finally made an attempt to do so, he was caught in the corridor by Professor Lockhart and escorted back to the Great Hall, as "students weren't to be traveling anywhere unaccompanied." Later that day an announcement was made to the school that the Hospital Wing was off-limits for student visitors while Madame Pomfrey worked on the Mandrake Potion for the petrified patients, and Fred groaned internally.

George saw the frustration seeping out of Fred day by day, but his brother refused to talk to him about it. Obviously, there was a level of concern for Hermione, but there was something deeper that he couldn't pinpoint. Finally, on a dreary April day, he decided to confront Fred in the common room after another grueling quidditch practice. The room was moderately empty, save for a few first years playing Exploding Snap in the corner, and as Fred made his way towards the stairs, George grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him.

"Fred." He started.

"George."

"What's going on? We're all worried about Hermione, but this is more than just worry. Yesterday Ron and Harry were going on about encountering giant spiders in the woods and you didn't once take the opportunity to poke fun at him for still being afraid of them after all these years. Dumbledore is gone, and I know that's worrying to some people, but you were like this before he left, so I know it's not that. So, what is it?" George squeezed his brother's arm in an attempt at comfort, but Fred slid out of his grasp and moved to sit on the on the couch, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands.

"It's my fault she's there, George. I promised her I'd walk her back and she sent me up to bed because I was tired. I should've _been_ there, I should've protected her, I should've—I shouldn't have left her all alone. That's the bottom line. And now she's in the blasted Hospital Wing again because of it. She could've _died_ , George, do you understand that? She could've died and it would've been all my fault."

A great many things clicked into place in George's mind in that moment, as he sat down next to his twin.

"Fred, you can't blame yourself for that. She told you to go herself, it's not like you walked out on her. She told you to go to bed, and you listened. And you know she'll be alright as soon as Madame Pomfrey finishes the mandrake—"

"I know that, George, but that doesn't make me feel any better. This could've been avoided altogether if I'd just stayed." Fred sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"But you can't change that now, it's in the past. All you can do is look for the next opportunity to step up, you know that." George paused, thinking for a moment. "Say, Fred, did you ever get around to visiting her before they started refusing visitors to the Hospital Wing?" his brother shook his head dismally. "What if you went tomorrow? You could make a whole day of it—bring her a card, drop in to clear the air and say what you think you need to say and see if you feel better."

Fred stared at his brother blankly. "I can't possibly imagine how that'll help, but I'm willing to try, I guess."

The next morning saw Fred absentmindedly moving food around on his plate while he waited for the cue from George to leave. As he picked up a forkful of eggs, his twin slid into his seat, winked dramatically, and stage whispered "give it 60 seconds" before heaping various breakfast dishes onto his plate. As expected, 60 seconds later a bang was heard from the Slytherin table, and as the students all looked around in confusion, thick pillars of smoke began rising from each of the table's corners, seemingly spilling from an unseen fire beneath the table. As the professors hurried towards the green-clad students, Fred slipped into the hallway unseen and began his trek to the Hospital Wing.

Fred gently closed the door behind him and paled as he saw the students laying in their beds, seemingly cast in stone. He quickly located his younger friend and hurried to her bedside, pulling a card out of his bag as he did so.

"Oh 'Mione," he said softly, "I'm so sorry. I never should've left you in the library that night. I can't help thinking about what could've happened to you and how it would've been all my fault—how it _is_ all my fault that you're here, and I just…I feel terrible. I told you I'd protect you, just like I would with anyone I love, and I failed miserably. Merlin, I don't even know if you can hear me now, but if you can, I want you to know how dreadfully sorry I am. I haven't been able to face you all week because I was afraid that I'd come here and see you and not know what to do with myself. And that's just not fair, I don't deserve to cry when you're the one in this state—especially not when it's all my fault. This is all my fault." He took a shaky breath as he looked down at her bedside table and flipped open the compact that lay there. Hermione's parents smiled up at him, followed by the picture he had previously seen of her, Harry and Ron. He grimaced and went to close the mirror, when he caught the shift of the picture to another, and glanced down to see his own image, hugging Hermione on the train platform before she departed for the summer. His heart clenched painfully for the woman lying on the bed, and he replaced the compact on the table before reached for her hand.

Almost immediately, he jolted back in his seat. There was something in her hand. A sheet of paper, it would seem. He carefully pulled the wadded-up page out of her hand and unfolded it, before gasping and quietly murmuring "it couldn't be." Fred looked back at Hermione in awe, pressed a kiss on her unmoving cheek, and whispered "you're brilliant. Even when you're not here with us, you're brilliant," before running out of the Hospital Wing to find Ron and Harry and tell them what she'd found.

* * *

The last month of the term flew by for Fred. Ginny went missing, and Ron and Harry were practically itching to fight the Basilisk now that Hermione had identified the beast in the castle. Suddenly the two had whisked away to a bathroom with Professor Lockhart, and at the end of it, Harry had turned up with his two siblings, and a very addled Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Harry, Ron and Ginny had been sent to the Hospital Wing to recover, which in Harry and Ron's cases was a mere night of being looked over by Madame Pomfrey. After their release, Ron was quick to regale everyone with the tale of what had happened in the depths of the school and how Harry had saved the day with his true Gryffindor spirit. Harry, to his credit, mainly blushed and answered questions as quickly as possible to avoid the attention on him, more concerned with Ginny's state than being lauded for a lucky swipe with a sword.

After Ginny was back safely, Fred's heart rate settled down a bit. Hermione was still petrified though, and his mood, while more cheerful than before, was still somber. The last day of classes came to a close, and as he sat at the Gryffindor table with his brothers and sister, he found himself acutely aware of the missing brunette's presence. Dumbledore began his end of year speech, and Fred zoned out, expecting Percy to smack him if anything important was stated. He'd nearly fallen asleep when the Great Hall's doors opened and a few students ran in, one in particular catching his eye immediately. Hermione looked ecstatic to see everyone and was quickly greeted with eager hugs and smiles from those at the table. She caught Fred's eye halfway through Ron's umpteenth explanation of the ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets and silently mouthed "see me later," before turning back to her friend's animated gestures. For the first time in a month, Fred smiled fully.

* * *

As the train pulled into the station and students disembarked, Fred approached Hermione and offered to help her with her trunk.

"Thank you, Fred," she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes as she spoke. "I've got something to tell you before you go, I meant to say it earlier, but I didn't know how to bring it up and I wasn't sure how you'd take it and I was a bit worried you wouldn't want to talk to me once I said it and…" she trailed off nervously, and Fred glanced at her worriedly.

"Hermione, is everything…Are you alright?" Fred offered tentatively, walking towards her luggage cart and placing her trunk carefully upon it. He gave her a once over as she wrung her hands and continued avoiding eye contact with him. He turned to face her fully and was thrown off by the sudden hug the girl levied at him.

"You know you're my friend, right?" Hermione whispered into his chest as she continued the hug. Fred nodded, unsure of where the conversation was going. "I need you to know that I heard what you said in the Hospital Wing the day that you found the page in my hand." Fred immediately started blushing and began stammering to get words out to backtrack and explain.

"No no, you don't know what I'm going to say next. No explanations from you," the girl said firmly, pulling away from him slightly to make eye contact and ensure his compliance, "until I've finished. Yes, I heard what you said, and I appreciated it, but I need you to know that I don't blame you for anything. I told you to go, if anything, you did me the favor by reminding me of my compact. Normally I throw it in my bag and don't think twice about it being in there, but because you'd mentioned it, I had it in my hand when Penelope and I left the library. And given what I'd found out about Basilisks, that's the reason I'm alright." As happy as he was to hear the words coming from Hermione, Fred still blanched at her declaration, recognizing the unspoken "instead of dead" at the end of her sentence. He swallowed, hoping she didn't notice how deep the concern in his face ran, instead choosing to pull her close again.

"Hermione, I'm so glad that you're okay." He whispered into her hair. "I was so worried and I felt terrible, and I thought—"

"Ah ah ah, not finished yet, silly." Hermione smirked up at him from the hug. "I heard _everything_ you said. From start to finish. You said you loved me, Fred. And I love you too. I'm grateful to have someone like you in my life who cares for me so well, you're like the older brother I never had." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek with a sweet smile on her face. "I wanted to thank you for that. And now I'm done, you can explain away."

Fred had paled further at her admission, and released her from the hug. _Oh Merlin, I did say that, didn't I._ "I uh…I guess I did say that. It's just…You spend so much time with my brother and sister that I kind of associate you with them, and I worry about them when they're in danger, so it only makes sense to extend that sort of concern to you. I'm happy to include you in my family, 'Mione, you're one of the best friends I've got—after George, of course." At this, he winked and felt his heart warm at the smile that burst onto Hermione's face.

The two talked of summer plans, of vacations to Egypt and France, and of the letters they'd write each other as they walked through the gateway and back towards their families. When the time came to leave, they looked at each other curiously—Hermione with determination, and Fred with a faint sadness—before pulling the other into a fierce hug. A whispered "stay safe, promise me you'll stay safe" was exchanged before each pulled away and moved towards their parents.

 _Next year will be unpredictable_ , Hermione thought as her parents' car drove away from the station, _but at least I'll have Fred by my side, even if it is just as a friend._ A similar thought drifted into Fred's mind as he called "the Burrow" out while standing in the green flames and felt the familiar pull towards home. _This year was… A mess,_ he thought, as he stumbled onto the hearth of his family home, _but at least she's alright. I've got to protect her better next year, Merlin knows I've fallen too hard to not._

And so, hundreds of miles apart, the two drifted off to sleep thinking of the same thing: a young girl's compact mirror with an animated picture of a girl and her slightly taller, red-haired friend flashing her a rogue grin.

* * *

A/N: Yikes—this took me way longer to put together than I'd expected (Sorry!)On the bright side, I wrote something? Which feels like progress in and of itself. I've hit a weird writer's block, not for the plot exactly, but mainly for endings. In the event that you hated the ending of this chapter, never fear! I don't love it myself! But the chapter needed to end so we can get into the next year, and the next year, and so on and so forth. Anyhow, as per usual I've got things tentatively mapped out (and in case you were _really_ wondering, yes I've teared up while reading some of my plan for the future of this story lol), but writing 6.6k words takes some time, so I won't give a promise for an update anytime very soon. I usually find more time to write in the first few weeks of classes, so hopefully that means I'll be able to get somewhere productive with this in the next month or so—but again, no promises.

Many thanks to all who have read and reviewed, welcome if you've just joined.

Next time on _Left Unsupervised_ : Everyone's favorite DADA Professor makes his grand entrance, everyone has friend troubles, Dementors?, and Hermione condones violence as the answer to a certain ferret.


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